^  0  ^  ^^ 

Please 

handle  this  volume 

with  care. 

The  University  of  Connecticut 
Libraries,  Storrs 


3  T1S3  D012Mflfl7  3 


LAY  SERMONS,  ADDEESSES,  AND  EEVIEWS. 


LAY  SERMONS, 


ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS 


BY 


THOMAS  HEMY  HUXLEY,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.. 

AtTTHOR  OP 

"man's  place   in   natuke,"    "origin   of  species,"   etc.,   etcj. 


NEW    YORK: 
D.    APPLETO^sT    AND    COMPAJSTY, 

1,  3,  AND    5    BOND     STREET. 

18  8  2. 


A  PREFATORY  LETTER. 


My  dear  Tyndall, 

I  slioiild  liave  liked  to  provide  tMs  coUection 
of  **Lay  Sermons,  Addresses,  and  Eeviews/^  with  a 
Dedication  and  a  Preface.  In  the  former,  I  should  have 
asked  you  to  allow  me  to  associate  your  name  with  the 
book,  chiefly  on  the  ground  that  the  oldest  of  the  papers 
in  it  is  a  good  deal  younger  than  our  friendship.  In 
the  latter,  I  intended  to  comment  upon  certain  criticisms 
with  which  some  of  these  Essays  have  been  met. 

But,  on  turning  the  matter  over  in  my  mind,  I  began 
to  fear  that  a  formal  dedication  at  the  beginning  of  such 
a  volume  would  look  like  a  grand  lodge  in  front  of  a  set 
of  cottages ;  while  a  complete  defence  of  any  of  my  old 
papers  would  simply  amount  to  writing  a  new  one — a 
labour  for  Y\^hich  I  am,  at  present,  by  no  means  fit. 

The  book  must  go  forth,  therefore,  without  any  better 
substitute  for  either  Dedication,  or  Preface,  than  this 
letter ;  before  concluding  which  it  is  necessary  for  me 
to  notify  you,  and  any  other  reader,  of  two  or  three 
matters. 


Fl  A  PREFATORY  LETTER. 

The  first  is,  that  the  oldest  Essay  of  the  whole,  that 
"On  the  Educational  Value  of  the  Natural  History 
Sciences,''  contains  a  view  of  the  nature  of  the  differences 
between  living  and  not-living  bodies  out  of  which  I  have 
long  since  grown. 

Secondly,  in  the  same  paper,  there  is  a  statement  con- 
cerning the  method  of  the  mathematical  sciences,  which, 
repeated  and  expanded  elsewhere,  brought  upon  me, 
durinof  the  meeting;  of  the  British  Association  at  Exeter, 
the  artillery  of  our  eminent  friend  Professor  Sylvester. 

No  one  knows  better  than  you  do,  how  readily  I 
should  defer  to  the  opinion  of  so  great  a  mathematician 
if  the  question  a,t  issue  were  really,  as  he  seems  to  think 
it  is,  a  mathematical  one.  But  I  submit,  that  the  dictum 
of  a  mathematical  athlete  upon  a  difficult  problem  which 
mathematics  offers  to  philosophy,  has  no  more  special 
weight,  than  the  verdict  of  that  great  pedestrian  Captain 
Barclay  would  have  had,  in  settling  a  disputed  point  in 
the  physiology  of  locomotion. 

The  genius  which  sighs  for  new  w^orlds  to  conquer 
beyond  that  surprising  region  in  which  "geometry, 
algebra,  and  the  theory  of  numbers  melt  into  one  another 
like  sunset  tints,  or  the  colours  of  a  dying  dolphin,''  may 
be  of  comparatively  little  service  in  the  cold  domain 
(mostly  lighted  by  the  moon,  some  say)  of  philosophy. 
And  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  does  our  friend 
seem  to  me  to  fall  into  the  position  of  one  of  those 
"  verstiindige  Leute,"  about  whom  he  makes  so  apt  a 
quotation  from  Goethe.  Surely  he  has  not  duly  con- 
sidered two   points.     The  first,  that   I   am  in  no  way 


A  PREFATORY  LETTER.  vii 

answerable  for  tlie  origination  of  tlie  doctrine  lie  criti- 
cises :  and  tlie  second,  that  if  we  are  to  employ  the 
terms  observation,  induction,  and  experiment,  in  the 
sense  in  which  he  uses  them,  logic  is  as  much  an 
observational,  inductive,  and  experimental  science  as 
mathematics;  and  that,  I  confess,  appears  to  me  to  be 
a  reductio  ad  ahsurdum  of  his  argument. 

Thirdly,  the  Essay  "  On  the  Physical  Basis  of  Life"  was 
intended  to  contain  a  plain  and  untechnical  statement  of 
one  of  the  great  tendencies  of  modern  biological  thought, 
accompanied  by  a  protest,  from  the  philosophical  side, 
against  what  is  commonly  called  Materialism.  The 
result  of  my  well-meant  efforts  I  find  to  be,  that  I  am 
generally  credited  with  having  invented  "protoplasm" 
in  the  interests  of  ''materialism."  My  unlucky  "Lay 
Sermon"  has  been  attacked  by  microscopists,  ignorant 
alike  of  Biology  and  Philosophy  ;  by  philosophers,  not 
very  learned  in  either  Biology  or  Microscopy ;  by  clergy- 
men of  several  denominations ;  and  by  some  few  writers 
who  have  taken  the  trouble  to  understand  the  subject. 
I  trust  that  these  last  will  believe  that  I  leave  the  Essay 
unaltered  from  no  want  of  respectful  attention  to  all  they 
have  said. 

Fourthly,   I  wish  to  refer  all  who   are  interested  in 
the  topics  discussed  in  my  address  on  "  Geological  Ee- 
form,"  to  the  reply  with  which  Sir  William  Thomson  has^ 
honoured  me. 

And,  lastly,  let  me  say  that  I  reprint  the  review  of 
"The  Origin  of  Species"  simply  because  it  has  been 
cited  as  mine  by  a  late  President  of  the  Geological  Society. 


1 
riii  A  FliEFATORY  LETTER,  \ 

If  you  find  its  phraseology,  in  some  places,  to  be  more  ] 
vigorous  than  seems  needful,  recollect  that  it  was  written  \ 
in  the  heat  of  our  first  battles  over  the  Novum  Organ  on 
of  Biology ;  that  we  were  all  ten  years  younger  in  those  I 
days  ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  that  it  was  not  published  ; 
until  it  had  been  submitted  to  the  revision  of  a  friend 
for  whose  judgment  I   had  then,  as  I  have  now,  the         | 

greatest  respect.  ; 

•  ■  j 

Ever,  my  dear  Tyndall,  ] 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

T.  H.  HUXLEY. 

London,  June  1870.  i^  I 


CONTENTS. 


L 

Oh  the  Advisableness  of  improving  Natural  Knowledge. 
(A  Lay  Sermon  delivered  in  St.  Martin's  Hall,  on  the  evening 
of  Sunday,  the  7th  of  January,  1866,  and  subsequently  published 
in  the  Fortnightly  Review) ,«»,.«       1 


II. 

Emancifation — Black  and  White.      (The  Reader,  May  20th,  1865)     20 

III. 

A  Liberal  Education  :  and  Where  to  find  It.  (An  Address 
to  the  South  London  Working  Men's  College,  delivered  on  the 
4th  of  January,  1868,  and  subsequently  published  in  Macmillan^s. 
Magazine) 27 

IV. 

Scientific  Education  :  Notes  of  an  After-dinner  Speech.  (De- 
livered before  the  Liverpool  Philomathic  Society  ia  April  1869, 
and  subsequently  published  in  Macmillan's  Magazine)  .     .     .     .    •    54 

V. 

On  the  Educational  Value  of  the  Natural  History  Sciences. 
(An  Address  delivered  at  St.  Martin's  Hall,  on  the  2  2d  July,  1854, 
and  published  as  a  pamphlet  in  that  year)    ....         .    •    •        ']  2 


CONTENTS. 


Yl. 

On  the  Study  of  Zoology.  (A  Lecture  delivered  at  tlie  South 
Kensington  Museum,  in  1861,  and  subsequently  published  by  the 
Department  of  Science  and  Art) 94 


VII. 

On  the  Physical  Basis  of  Life.  (A  Lay  Sermon  delivered  in 
Edinburgh,  on  Sunday,  the  8th  of  November,  1868,  at  the  request 
of  the  late  Eev.  James  Cranbrook  ;  subsequently  published  in  the 
Fortnightly  Review) 120 


VIIL 

The  Scientific  Aspects  op  Positivism.  (A  Reply  to  Mr.  Congreve's 
Attack  upon  the  preceding  Paper.  Published  .n  the  Fortnightly 
lievievj,  1869)      •e>.c,8«e...9.e«a«147 


IX. 

On  a  Piece  op  Chalk.  (A  Lecture  delivered  to  the  Working  Men  of 
Norwich,  during  the  Meeting  of  the  British  Association,  in  1868. 
Subsequently  published  in  Macmillan^s  Magazine) ,174 


X. 

(Geological  CoNTEMroRANEiTY  and  Persistent  Types  of  Life.  (The 

Anniversary  Address  to  the  Geological  Society  for  1862)    .    »    ,    «  20% 


XI. 

Geological   Reform.      (The   Anniversary  Address  to  the  Geological 

Society  for  1869) 228 


XII. 

>^    The  Origin  of  Species.    (The  Westminster  Review,  April  1860)  ,    ,    ,  255 


CONTENTS.  xi 


XIII. 

PAGK 

Criticisms   on   "The  Origin'  of   Species."     (The  Natural  History 

Review,  1864) 299 


XIY. 

On  Descartes'  "  Discourse  touching  the  Method  of  using  One's 
Eeason  rightly  and  of  seeking  Scientific  Truth."  (An 
Address  to  the  Cambridge  Young  Men's  Christian  Society,  delivered 
on  the  24th  of  March,  1870,  and  subsequently  published  in 
Macmillaov's  Magazine)    .......,•..*..«  32C 


XY. 

Spontaneous  Generation.  (An  Address  delivered  before  the  British 
Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science,  ^t  the  Liverpool 
meeting,  September,  1870,  and  published  in  Nature)     .... 


ON  THE  ADVISABLENESS  OF  IMPEOVING 
NATUEAL  KNOWLEDGE. 

This  time  two  hundred  years  ago — in  tlie  beginning  of 
January,  1666 — ^those  of  our  forefathers  wlio  inhabited 
this  great  and  ancient  city,  took  breath  between  the 
shocks  of  two  fearful  calamities :  one  not  quite  past, 
although  its  fury  had  abated ;  the  other  to  come. 

"Within  a  few  yards  of  the  very  spot  on  which  we 
are  assembled,  so  the  tradition  runs,  that  painful 
and  deadly  malady,  the  plague,  appeared  in  the  latter 
months  of  1664  ;  and,  though  no  new  visitor,  smote  the 
people  of  England,  and  especially  of  her  capital,  with 
a  violence  unknown  before,  in  the  course  of  the  following 
year.  The  hand  of  a  master  has  pictured  what  happened 
in  those  dismal  months ;  and  -  in  that  truest  of  fictions, 
"  The  History  of  the  Plague  Year,^^  Defoe  shows  death, 
with  every  accompaniment  of  pain  and  terror,  stalking 
through  the  narrow  streets  of  old  London,  and  changing 
their  busy  hum  into  a  silence  broken  only  by  the 
wailing  of  the  mourners  of  fifty  thousand  dead ;  by  the 
woful  denunciations  and  mad  prayers  of  fanatics ;  and 
by  the  madder  yells  of  despairing  profligates. 

But,  about  this  time  in  1666,  the  death-rate  had 
sunk  to  nearly  its  ordinary  amount;  a  case  of  plague 
occurred  only  here   and  there,  and  the  richer  citizens 


2  LAY  SERMONS,  JBDJRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [l 

wlio  liad  flown  from  tlie  pest  had  returned  to  their 
dwellings.  The  remnant  of  the  people  began  to  toil 
at  the  accustomed  round  of  duty,  or  of  pleasure ;  and 
the  stream  of  city  life  bid  fair  to  flow  back  along  its 
old  bed,  with  renewed  and  uninterrupted  vigour. 

The  newly  kindled  hope  was  deceitful.  The  great 
plague,  indeed,  returned  no  more ;  but  what  it  had 
done  for  the  Londoners,  the  great  fire,  which  broke 
out  in  the  autumn  of  1666,  did  for  London  ;  and,  in 
September  of  that  year,  a  heap  of  ashes  and  the  inde- 
structible energy  of  the  people  were  all  that  remained 
of  the  glory  of  five-sixths  of  the  city  within  the  walls. 

Our  forefathers  had  their  own  ways  of  accounting 
for  each  of  these  calamities.  They  submitted  to  the 
plague  in  humility  and  in  penitence,  for  they  believed 
it  to  be  the  judgment  of  God.  But,  towards  the  fire 
they  were  furiously  indignant,  interpreting  it  as  the 
effect  of  the  malice  of  man,  —  as  the  work  of  the 
Eepublicans,  or  of  the  Papists,  according  as  their  pre- 
possessions ran  in  favour  of  loyalty  or  of  Puritanism. 

It  would,  I  fancy,  have  fared  but  ill  with  one  who, 
standing  where  I  now  stand,  in  what  was  then  a  thickly 
peopled  and  fashionable  part  of  London,  should  have 
broached  to  our  ancestors  the  doctrine  which  I  now 
propound  to  you — that  all  their  hypotheses  were  alike 
wrong ;  that  the  plague  was  no  more,  in  their  sense, 
Divine  judgment,  than  the  fire  was  the  work  of  any  poli- 
tical, or  of  any  religious,  sect ;  but  that  they  were  them- 
selves the  authors  of  both  plague  and  fire,  and  that  they 
must  look  to  themselves  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of 
calamities,  to  all  appearance  so  peculiarly  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  control — so  evidently  the  result  of  the 
wrath  of  God,  or  of  the  craft  and  subtlety  of  ao 
enemy. 


..]    ABriSABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE.    3 

And  one  may  picture  to  oneself  how  harmoniously 
the  holy  cursing  of  the  Puritan  of  that  day  would  have 
chimed  in  w^ith  the  unholy  cursing  and  the  crackling 
wit  of  the  Eochesters  and  Sedleys,  and  with  the  revilings 
of  the  political  fanatics,  if  my  imaginary  plain  dealer 
had  gone  on  to  say  that,  if  the  return  of  such  misfortunes 
were  ever  rendered  impossible,  it  would  not  be  in  virtue 
of  the  victory  of  the  faith  of  Laud,  or  of  that  of 
Milton  ;  and,  as  little,  by  the  triumph  of  republicanism, 
as  by  that  of  monarchy.  But  that  the  one  thing 
needful  for  compassing  this  end  v/as,  that  the  people 
of  England  should  second  the  efforts  of  an  insig- 
nificant corporation,  the  establishment  of  which,  a  few 
years  before  the  epoch  of  the  great  plague  and  the 
great  fire,  had  been  as  little  noticed,  as  they  were 
conspicuous. 

Some  twenty  years  before  the  outbreak  of  the  plague 
a  few  calm  and  thoughtful  students  banded  themselves 
together  for  the  purpose,  as  they  phrased  it,  of  "im- 
proving natural  knowledge/''  The  ends  they  proposed 
to  attain  cannot  be  stated  more  clearly  than  in  the 
words  of  one  of  the  founders  of  the  organization  : — 

"  Our  business  was  (precluding  matters  of  theology 
and  state  affairs)  to  discourse  and  consider  of  philo- 
sophical enquiries,  and  such  as  related  thereunto  : — as 
Physick,  Anatomy,  Geometry,  Astronomy,  Navigation, 
Staticks,  Magneticks,  Chymicks,  Mechanicks,  and 
Natural  Experiments  ;  with  the  state  of  these  studies 
and  their  cultivation  at  home  and  abroad.  We  then 
discoursed  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the  valves 
in  the  veins,  the  venae  lacteaa,  the  lymphatic  vessels, 
the  Copernican  hypothesis,  the  nature  of  comets  and 
new  stars,  the  satellites  of  Ju.piter,  the  oval  shape  (as 
it  then  appeared)  of  Saturn,   the  spots  on  the  sun  and 


4  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  £1.' 

its  turning  on  its  own  axis,  tlie  inequalities  and  seleno- 
graphy of  the  moon,  the  several  phases  of  Yenus  and 
Mercury,  the  improvement  of  telescopes  and  grinding 
of  glasses  for  that  purpose,  the  weight  of  air,  the 
possibility  or  impossibility  of  vacuities  and  nature's  ab- 
horrence thereof,  the  Torricellian  experiment  in  quick- 
silver, the  descent  of  heavy  bodies  and  the  degree  of 
acceleration  therein,  with  divers  other  things  of  like 
nature,  some  of  which  were  then  but  new  discoveries, 
and  others  not  so  generally  known  and  embraced  as 
now  they  are  ;  with  other  things  appertaining  to  what 
hath  been  called  the  New  Philosophy,  which,  from 
the  times  of  G-alileo  at  Florence,  and  Sir  Francis  Bacon 
(Lord  Yeruiam)  in  England,  hath  been  much  cultivated 
in  Italy,  France,  Germany,  and  other  parts  abroad,  as 
well  as  with  us  in  England." 

The  learned  Dr.  Wallis,  writing  in  1696,  narrates,  in 
these  words,  what  happened  half  a  century  before,  or 
about  1645.  The  associates  met  at  Oxford,  in  the 
rooms  of  Dr.  Wilkins,  who  was  destined  to  become  a 
bishop  ;  and  subsequently  coming  together  in  London, 
they  attracted  the  notice  of  the  king.  And  it  is  a 
strange  evidence  of  the  taste  for  knowledge  which  the 
most  obviously  worthless  of  the  Stuarts  shared  with 
his  father  and  grandfather,  that  Charles  the  Second 
was  not  content  with  saying  witty  things  about  his 
philosophers,  but  did  wise  things  with  regard  to  them. 
For  he  not  only  bestowed  upon  them  such  attention  as 
he  could  spare  from  his  poodles  and  his  mistresses,  but, 
being  in  his  usual  state  of  impecuniosity,  begged  for 
them  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond ;  and,  that  step  being 
without  effect,  gave  them  Chelsea  College,  a  charter,  and 
a  mace  :  crowning  his  favours  in  the  best  way  they  could 
be  crowned,  by  burdening  them  no  further  with  royal 
patronage  or  state  interference. 


I.]  ADFISABLENESS  OF  IMFROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE.   5 

Thus  it  was  tliat  tlie  lialf-dozen  young  men,  studious 
of  the  "  New  Philosophy,"  who  met  in  one  another's 
lodgings  in  Oxford  or  in  London,  in  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  grew  in  numerical  and  in  real 
strength,  until,  in  its  latter  part,  the  "  Eoyal  Society  for 
the  Improvement  of  Natural  Knowledge"  had  already 
become  famous,  and  had  acquired  a  claim  upon  the  vene- 
ration of  Englishmen,  which  it  has  ever  since  retained, 
as  the  principal  focus  of  scientific  activity  in  our  islands, 
and  the  chief  champion  of  the  cause  it  was  formed  to 
support. 

It  was  by  the  aid  of  the  Royal  Society  that  Newton 
published  his  ''  Principia."  If  all  the  books  in  the  world, 
except  the  Philosophical  Transactions,  were  destroyed,  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  the  foundations  of  physical  science 
would  remain  unshaken,  and  that  the  vast  intellectual 
progress  of  the  last  two  centuries  would  be  largely, 
though  incompletely,  recorded.  Nor  have  any  signs 
of  halting  or  of  decrepitude  manifested  themselves  in 
our  own  times.  As  in  Dr.  Wallis's  days,  so  in  these, 
"  our  business  is,  precluding  theology  and  state  affairs, 
to  discourse  and  consider  of  philosophical  enquiries." 
But  our  '' Mathematick"  is  one  which  Newton  would 
have  to  go  to  school  to  learn ;  our  "  Staticks^  Mechanicks, 
Magneticks,  Chymicks,  and  Natural  Experiments"  con- 
stitute a  mass  of  physical  and  chemical  knowledge, 
a  glimpse  at  which  would  compensate  Galileo  for 
the  doings  of  a  score  of  inquisitorial  cardinals ;  our 
"Physick"  and  "Anatomy"  have  embraced  such  in- 
finite varieties  of  being,  have  laid  open  such  new 
worlds  in  time  and  space,  have  grappled,  not  unsuc- 
cessfully, with  such  complex  problems,  that  the  eyes 
of  Vesalius  and  of  Harvey  might  be  dazzled  by  the 
sight  of  the  tree  that  has  grown  out  of  their  grain  of 
mustard  seed. 


6  l^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [i. 

The  fact  is  perliaps  ratlier  too  mucli,  than  too  little, 
forced  upon  one's  notice,  nowadays,  that  all  this  mar- 
vellous intellectual  growth  has  a  no  less  wonderful 
expression  in  practical  life  ;  and  that,  in  this  respect,  if 
in  no  other,  the  movement  symbolized  by  the  progress 
of  the  Eoyal  Society  stands  without  a  parallel  in  the 
history  of  mankind. 

A  series  of  volumes  as  bulky  as  the  Transactions  of 
the  Eoyal  Society  might  possibly  be  filled  with  the 
subtle  speculations  of  the  Schoolmen  ;  not  improbably, 
the  obtaining  a  mastery  over  the  products  of  mediaeval 
thought  might  necessitate  an  even  greater  expenditure  of 
time  and  of  energy  than  the  acquirement  of  the  "  New 
Philosophy;''  but  though  such  work  engrossed  the  best 
intellects  of  Europe  for  a  longer  time  than  has  elapsed 
since  the  great  fire,  its  effects  were  "  writ  in  water/'  so 
far  as  our  social  state  is  concerned. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  noble  first  President  of  the 
Eoyal  Society  could  revisit  the  upper  air  and  once  more 
gladden  his  eyes  with  a  sight  of  the  familiar  mace,  he 
vfould  find  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  material  civilization 
more  different  from  that  of  his  day,  than  that  of  the 
seventeenth,  was  from  that  of  the  first,  century.  And  if 
Lord  Brouncker's  native  sagacity  had  not  deserted  his 
ghost,  he  would  need  no  long  reflection  to  discover  that 
all  these  great  ships,  these  railways,  these  telegraphs, 
these  factories,  these  printing-presses,  without  which  the 
whole  fabric  of  modern  English  society  would  collapse 
into  a  mass  of  stagnant  and  starving  pauperism, — that 
all  these  pillars  of  our  State  are  but  the  ripples  and  the 
bubbles  upon  the  surface  of  that  great  spiritual  stream, 
the  springs  of  which,  only,  he  and  his  fellows  were 
privileged  to  see ;  and  seeing,  to  recognise  as  that  which 
it  behoved  them  above  all  things  to  keep  pure  and 
undefiled. 


I.]  ADFISABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE.     7 

It  may  not  be  too  great  a  fliglit  of  imagination  to 
conceive  our  noble  revenant  not  forgetful  of  the  great 
troubles  of  bis  own  day,  and  anxious  to  know  bow  often 
London  bad  been  burned  down  since  bis  time,  and  bow 
often  tbe  plague  bad  carried  off  its  tbousands.  He  would 
bave  to  learn  tbat,  altbougb  London  contains  tenfold  the 
inflammable  matter  tbat  it  did  in  1666  ;  tbougb,  not 
content  witb  filling  our  rooms  with  woodwork  and  ligbt 
draperies,  we  must  needs  lead  inflammable  and  ex^Dlosive 
gases  into  every  corner  of  our  streets  and  bouses,  we 
never  allow  even  a  street  to  burn  down.  And  if  be 
asked  bow  tbis  bad  come  about,  we  sbould  bave  to 
explain  tbat  tbe  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  bas 
furnished  us  witb  dozens  of  machines  for  throwing  water 
upon  fires,  any  one  of  which  would  bave  furnished  the 
ingenious  Mr.  Hooke,  the  first  "  curator  and  experi- 
menter" of  the  Koyal  Society,  with  ample  materials  for 
discourse  before  half  a  dozen  meetings  of  that  body ; 
and  that,  to  say  truth,  except  for  tbe  progress  of  natural 
knowledge,  we  should  not  have  been  able  to  make  even 
the  tools  by  w^hich  these  machines  are  constructed. 
And,  further,  it  would  be  necessary  to  add,  that  although 
severe  fires  sometimes  occur  and  inflict  great  damage, 
the  loss  is  very  generally  compensated  by  societies,  the 
operations  of  which  have  been  rendered  possible  only 
by  the  progress  of  natural  knowledge  in  the  direction  of 
mathematics,  and  the  accumulation  of  wealth  in  virtue 
of  other  natural  knowledge. 

But  the  plague  ?  My  Lord  Brouncker's  observation 
would  not,  I  fear,  lead  him  to  think  that  Englishmen  of 
tbe  nineteenth  century  are  purer  in  life,  or  more  fer- 
vent in  religious  faith,  than  the  generation  which  could 
produce  a  Boyle,  an  Evelyn,  and  a  Milton.  He  might 
find  the  mud  of  society  at  the  bottom,  instead  of  at  the 
top,  but  I  fear  that  the  sum  total  would  be  as  deserving 


S  .    LJr  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJFS,  [i 

of  swift  judgment  as  at  the  time  of  the  Eestoration. 
And  it  would  be  our  duty  to  explain  once  more,  and 
this  time  not  without  shame,  that  we  have  no  reason 
to  believe  that  it  is  the  improvement  of  our  faith,  nor 
that  of  our  morals,  which  keeps  the  plague  from  our 
city  ;  but,  again,  that  it  is  the  improvement  of  our 
natural  knowledge. 

AYe  have  learned  that  pestilences  will  only  take  up 
their  abode  among  those  who  have  prepared  unswept 
and  ungarnished  residences  for  them.  Their  cities  must 
have  narrow,  unwatered  streets,  foul  with  accumulated 
garbage.  Their  houses  must  be  ill-drained,  ill-lighted, 
ill- ventilated.  Their  subjects  must  be  ill- washed,  ill- 
fed,  ill-clothed.  The  I^ondon  of  1665  was  such  a  city. 
The  cities  of  the  East,  wdiere  plague  has  an  enduring 
dwelling,  are  such  cities.  We,  in  later  times,  have 
learned  somewhat  of  Nature,  and  partly  obey  her. 
Because  of  this  partial  improvement  of  our  natural 
knowledge  and  of  that  fractional  obedience,  we  have 
no  plague ;  because  that  knowledge  is  still  very  imper- 
fect and  that  obedience  yet  incomplete,  typhus  is  our 
companion  and  cholera  our  visitor.  But  it  is  not 
presumptuous  to  express  the  belief  that,  when  our 
knowledge  is  more  complete  and  our  obedience  the 
expression  of  our  knowledge,  London  wiU  count  her 
centuries  of  freedom  from  typhus  and  cholera,  as  she 
now  gratefully  reckons  her  two  hundred  years  of 
ignorance  of  that  plague  which  swooped  upon  her 
thrice  in  the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Surely,  there  is  nothing  in  these  explanations  which 
is  not  fully  borne  out  by  the  facts  ?  Surely,  the  prin- 
ciples involved  in  them  are  now  admitted  among  the 
fixed  beliefs  of  all  thinking  men?  Surely,  it  is  true 
that  our  countrymen  are  less  subject  to  fire,  famine, 
pestilence,  and  all  the  evils  which  result  from  a  want 


I.]  ABVISAMENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE.    9 

ol  command,  over  and  due  anticipation  of  tlie  course  of 
Nature,  than  were  the  countrymen  of  Milton  ;  and  health, 
wealth,  and  well-being  are  more  abundant  with  us  than 
with  them  ?  But  no  less  certainly  is  the  difference  due 
to  the  improvement  of  our  knowledge  of  Nature,  and 
the  extent  to  which  that  improved  knowledge  has  been 
incorporated  with  the  household  words  of  men,  and  has 
supplied  the  springs  of  their  daily  actions. 

Granting  for  a  moment,  then,  the  truth  of  that  which 
the  depredators  of  natural  knowledge  are  so  fond  of 
urging,  that  its  improvement  can  only  add  to  the  resources 
of  our  material  civilization ;  admitting  it  to  be  possible  that 
the  founders  of  the  Eoyal  Society  themselves  looked  for 
no  other  reward  than  this,  I  cannot  confess  that  I  was 
guilty,  of  exaggeration  when  I  hinted,  that  to  him  who 
had  the  gift  of  distinguishing  between  prominent  events 
and  important  events,  the  origin  of  a  combined  effort 
on  the  part  of  mankind  to  improve  natural  knowledge 
might  have  loomed  larger  than  the  Plague  and  have  out- 
shone the  glare  of  the  Fire ;  as  a  something  fraught  with 
a  wealth  of  beneficence  to  mankind,  in  comparison  with 
which  the  damage  done  by  those  ghastly  evils  would 
shrink  into  insignificance. 

It  is  very  certain  that  for  every  victim  slain  by 
the  plague,  hundreds  of  mankind  exist  and  find  a  fair 
share  of  happiness  in  the  world,  by  the  aid  of  the 
spinning  jenny.  And  the  great  fire,  at  its  worst,  could 
not  have  burned  the  supply  of  coal,  the  daily  working 
of  which,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  made  possible  by  the 
steam  pump,  gives  rise  to  an  amount  of  wealth  to  which 
the  millions  lost  in  old  London  are  but  as  an  old  song. 

But  spinning  jenny  and  steam  pump  are,  after  all,  but 
toys,  possessing  an  accidental  value ;  and  natural  know- 
ledge creates  multitudes  of  more  subtle  contrivances,  the 


10  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [u 

praises  of  wliicli  do  not  happen  to  be  sung  because  tliey 
are  not  directly  convertible  into  instruments  for  creating 
wealth.  When  I  contemplate  natural  knowledge  squan- 
dering such  gifts  among  men,  the  only  appropriate 
comparison  I  can  find  for  her  is,  to  liken  her  to  such  a 
peasant  woman  as  one  sees  in  the  Alps,  striding  ever 
upward,  heavily  burdened,  and  with  mind  bent  only  on 
her  home ;  but  yet,  without  eifort  and  without  thought, 
knitting  for  her  children.  Now  stockings  are  good  and 
comfortable  things,  and  the  childi*en  will  undoubtedly 
be  much  the  better  for  them ;  but  surely  it  would  be 
short-sighted,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  to  depreciate  this 
toiling  mother  as  a  mere  stocking-machine — a  mere 
provider  of  physical  comforts  ? 

However,  there  are  blind  leaders  of  the  blind,  and  not 
a  few  of  them,  who  take  this  view  of  natural  knowledge, 
and  can  see  nothing  in  the  bountiful  mother  of  humanity 
but  a  sort  of  comfort- grinding  machine.  According  to 
them,  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  always  has 
been,  and  always  must  be,  synonymous  with  no  more 
than  the  improvement  of  the  material  resources  and  the 
increase  of  the  gratifications  of  men. 

Natural  knowledge  is,  in  their  eyes,  no  real  mother  of 
mankind,  bringing  them  up  with  kindness,  and,  if  need 
b.e,  vfith  sternness,  in  the  way  they  should  go,  and 
instructing  them  in  all  things  needful  for  their  welfare ; 
but  a  sort  of  fairy  godmother,  ready  to  furnish  her  pets 
with  shoes  of  swiftness,  swords  of  sharpness,  and  omni- 
potent Aladdin's  lamps,  so  that  they  may  have  telegraphs 
to  Saturn,  and  see  the  other  side  of  the  moon,  and  thank 
God  they  are  better  than  their  benighted  ancestors. 

If  this  talk  were  true,  I,  for  one,  should  not  greatly 
care  to  toil  in  the  service  of  natural  knowledsre.  I  think 
I  would  just  as  soon  be  quietly  chipping  my  own  flint 
axe,  after  the  manner  of  my  forefathers  a  few  thousand 


i:\  ADVISABLENESS  OF  IMP  ROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEBGE.  l\ 

years  back,  as  be  troubled  with  the  endless  malady  of 
thought  which  now  infests  us  all,  for  such  reward.  But 
I  venture  to  say  that  such  views  are  contrary  alike  to 
reason  and  to  fact.  Those  who  discourse  in  such  fashion 
seem  to  me  to  be  so  intent  upon  trying  to  see  what  is 
above  Nature,  or  what  is  behind  her,  that  they  are  blind 
to  what  stares  them  in  the  face,  in  her. 

I  should  not  venture  to  speak  thus  strongly  if  my 
justification  were  not  to  be  found  in  the  simplest  and 
most  obvious  facts, — if  it  needed  more  than  an  appeal 
to  the  most  notorious  truths  to  justify  my  assertion,  that 
the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge,  whatever  direc- 
tion it  has  taken,  and  however  low  the  aims  of  those 
who  may  have  commenced  it — has  not  only  conferred 
practical  benefits  on  men,  but,  in  so  doing,  has  efi'ected 
a  revolution  in  their  conceptions  of  the  universe  and  of 
themselves,  and  has  profoundly  altered  their  modes  of 
thinking  and  their  views  of  right  and  wrong.  I  say 
that  natural  knowledge,  seeking  to  satisfy  natural  wants, 
has  found  the  ideas  which  can  alone  still  spiritual 
cravings.  I  say  that  natural  knowledge,  in  desiring  to 
ascertain  the  laws  of  comfort,  has  been  driven  to  discover 
those  of  conduct,  and  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  new 
morality. 

Let  us  take  these  points  separately ;  and,  first,  what 
great  ideas  has  natural  knowledge  introduced  into  men  s 
minds  ? 

I  cannot  but  think  that  the  foundations  of  all  natural 
knowledge  were  laid  when  the  reason  of  man  first  came 
face  to  face  with  the  facts  of  Nature  :  when  the  savage 
first  learned  that  the  fingers  of  one  hand  are  fewer  than 
those  of  both ;  that  it  is  shorter  to  cross  a  stream  than 
to  head  it ;  that  a  stone  stops  where  it  is  unless  it  be 
moved,  and  that  it  drops  from  the  hand  which  lets  it  go ; 


12  ZJF  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [i. 

tliat  light  and  heat  come  and  go  with  the  sun  ;  that 
sticks  burn  away  in  a  fire ;  that  plants  and  animals  grow 
and  die ;  that  if  he  struck  his  fellow-savage  a  blow  he 
would  make  him  angry,  and  perhaps  get  a  blow  in  return, 
while  if  he  offered  him  a  fruit  he  would  please  him,  and 
perhaps  receive  a  fish  in  exchange.  When  men  had 
acquired  this  much  knowledge,  the  outlines,  rude  though 
they  were,  of  mathematics,  of  physics,  of  chemistry,  of 
biology,  of  moral,  economical,  and  political  science,  were 
sketched.  Nor  did  the  germ  of  religion  fail  when 
science  began  to  bud.  Listen  to  words  which,  though 
new,  are  yet  three  thousand  years  old  : — 

** ,     .     .  When  in  heaven  the  stars  about  the  moon 
Look  beautiful,  when  all  the  winds  are  laid, 
And  every  height  comes  out,  and  jutting  peak 
And  valley,  and  the  immeasurable  heavens 
Break  open  to  their  highest,  and  all  the  stars 
Shine,  and  the  shepherd  gladdens  in  his  heart."  i 

If  the  half-savage  Greek  could  share  our  feelings  thus 
far,  it  is  irrational  to  doubt  that  he  went  further,  to 
find,  as  we  do,  that  upon  that  brief  gladness  there 
follows  a  certain  sorrow, — the  little  light  of  awakened 
human  intelligence  shines  so  mere  a  spark  amidst  the 
abyss  of  the  unknown  and  unknowable ;  seems  so  in- 
sufficient to  do  more  than  illuminate  the  imperfections 
that  cannot  be  remedied,  the  aspirations  that  cannot  be 
realized,  of  man^s  own  nature.  But  in  this  sadness,  this 
consciousness  of  the  limitation  of  man,  this  sense  of  an 
open  secret  which  he  cannot  penetrate,  lies  the  essence  of 
all  religion ;  and  the  attempt  to  embody  it  in  the  forms 
furnished  by  the  intellect  is  the  origin  of  the  higher 
theologies. 

Thus  it  seems   impossible   to  imagine   but  that  the 
foundations  of  all  knowledge — secular  or  sacred — were 

1  Need  it  be  said  that  this  is  Tennyson's  English  for  Homer's  Greek  ? 


l]  ADVISJBIENESS  of  niPROVING  natural  KNOWL-EBGE.   13 

laid  when  intelligence  dawned,  tliougli  the  superstructure 
remained  for  long  ages  so  slight  and  feeble  as  to  be 
compatible  with  the  existence  of  almost  any  general 
view  respecting  the  mode  of  governance  of  the  universe. 
No  doubt,  from  the  first,  there  were  certain  phsenomena 
which,  to  the  rudest  mind,  presented  a  constancy  of 
occurrence,  and  suggested  that  a  fixed  order  ruled,  at 
any  rate,  among  them.  I  doubt  if  the  grossest  of  Fetish 
worshippers  ever  imagined  that  a  stone  must  have  a 
god  within  it  to  make  it  fall,  or  that  a  fruit  had  a  god 
within  it  to  make  it  taste  sweet.  With  regard  to  such 
matters  as  these,  it  is  hardly  questionable  that  man- 
kind from  the  first  took  strictly  positive  and  scientific 
views. 

But,  with  respect  to  all  the  less  familiar  occurrences 
which  present  themselves,  uncultured  man,  no  doubt,  has 
always  taken  himself  as  the  standard  of  comparison,  as 
the  centre  and  measure  of  the  world ;  nor  could  he  well 
avoid  doing  so.  And  finding  that  his  apparently  un- 
caused will  has  a  powerful  efiect  in  giving  rise  to  many 
occurrences,  he  naturally  enough  ascribed  other  and 
greater  events  to  other  and  greater  volitions,  and  came 
to  look  upon  the  world  and  all  that  therein  is,  as  the 
product  of  the  volitions  of  persons  like  himself,  but 
stronger,  and  capable  of  being  appeased  or  angered,  as 
he  himself  might  be  soothed  or  irritated.  Through  such 
conceptions  of  the  plan  and  working  of  the  universe  all 
mankind  have  passed,  or  are  passing.  And  we  may  now 
consider,  what  has  been  the  efiect  of  the  improvement 
of  natural  knowledge,  on  the  views  of  men  who  have 
reached  this  stage,  and  who  have  begun  to  cultivate 
natural  knowledge  with  no  desire  but  that  of  "increasing 
God's  honour  and  bettering  mans  estate.'^ 

For  example :    what  could  seem  wiser,  from  a  mere 
material  point  of  view,  more  innocent,  from  a  theological 
2 


14  LAY  SliRMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [i 

one,  to  an  ancient  people,-  tlian  that  tliey  slioukl  learn 
tlie  exact  succession  of  the  seasons,  as  warnings  for  their 
husbandmen ;  or  the  position  of  the  stars,  as  guides  to 
their  rude  navigators '?  But  what  has  grown  out  of  this 
search  for  natural  knowledge  of  so  merely  useful  a 
character?  You  all  know  the  reply.  Astronomy, — 
which  of  all  sciences  has  filled  men's  minds  with  general 
ideas  of  a  character  most  foreign  to  their  daily  ex- 
perience, and  has,  more  than  any  other,  rendered  it 
impossible  for  them  to  accept  the  beliefs  of  their  fathers. 
Astronomy, — which  tells  them  that  this  so  vast  and 
seemingly  solid  earth  is  but  an  atom  among  atoms, 
whirling,  no  man  knows  whither,  through  illimitable 
space  ;  which  demonstrates  that  what  we  call  the  peace- 
ful heaven  above  us,  is  but  that  space,  filled  by  an 
infinitely  subtle  matter  whose  particles  are  seething  and 
surging,  like  the  waves  of  an  angry  sea;  which  opens 
up  to  us  infinite  regions  where  nothing  is  known,  or 
ever  seems  to  have  been  known,  but  matter  and  force, 
operating  according  to  rigid  rules ;  which  leads  us  to 
contemplate  phsenomena  the  very  nature  of  which 
demonstrates  that  they  must  have  had  a  beginning,  and 
that  they  must  have  an  end,  but  the  very  nature  of 
which  also  proves  that  the  beginning  was,  to  our  concep- 
tions of  time,  infinitely  remote,  and  that  the  end  is  as 
immeasurably  distant. 

But  it  is  nob  alone  those  who  pursue  astronomy  who 
ask  for  bread  and  receive  ideas.  What  more  harmless 
than  the  attempt  to  lift  and  distribute  Wciter  by  pumping 
it ;  what  more  absolutely  and  grossly  utilitarian  ?  But 
out  of  pumps  grew  the  discussions  about  Nature's 
abhorrence  of  a  vacuum ;  and  then  it  was  discovered 
that  Nature  does  not  abhor  a  vacuum,  but  that  air  has 
weight ;  and  that  notion  paved  the  way  for  the  doctrine 
that  all  matter  has  weight,   and  that  the  force  which 


I.J  inVISABLJENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGR    15 

produces  weight  is  co-extensive  with  the  universe, — in 
short,  to  the  theory  of  universal  gravitation  and  endless 
force.  .  While  learning  how  to  handle  gases  led  to  the 
discovery  of  oxygen,  and  to  modern  chemistry,  and  to 
the  notion  of  the  indestructibility  of  matter. 

Again,  what  simpler,  or  more  absolutely  practical, 
than  the  attempt  to  keep  the  axle  of  a  wheel  from 
heating  when  the  wheel  turns  round  very  fast  ?  How 
useful  for  carters  and  gig  drivers  to  know  something 
about  this  ;  and  how  good  were  it,  if  any  ingenious 
person  would  find  out  the  cause  of  such  phaenomena, 
and  thence  educe  a  general  remedy  for  them.  Such 
an  ingenious  person  was  Count  Eumford ;  and  he  and 
his  successors  have  landed  us  in  the  theory  of  the  per- 
sistence, or  indestructibility,  of  force.  And  in  the  in- 
finitely minute,  as  in  the  infinitely  great,  the  seekers 
after  natural  knowledge,  of  the  kinds  called  physical  and 
chemical,  have  everywhere  found  a  definite ,  order  and 
succession  of  events  which  seem  never  to  be  infrino^ed. 

o 

And  how  has  it  fared  with  "Physick''  and  Anatomy'? 
Have  the  anatomist,  the  physiologist,  or  the  physician, 
whose  business  it  has  been  to  devote  themselves  assi- 
duously to  that  eminently  practical  and  direct  end,  the 
alleviation  of  the  sufferings  of  mankind, — have  they 
been  able  to  confine  their  vision  more  absolutely  to  the 
strictly  useful  ?  I  fear  they  are  worst  offenders  of  all. 
For  if  the  astronomer  has  set  before  us  the  infinite 
magnitude  of  space,  and  the  practical  eternity  of  the 
duration  of  the  universe;  if  the  physical  and  chemical 
philosophers  have  demonstrated  the  infinite  minuteness 
of  its  constituent  parts,  and  the  practical  eternity  of 
matter  aud  of  force ;  and  if  both  have  alike  proclaimed 
the  universality  of  a  definite  and  predicable  order  and 
succession  of  events,  the  workers  in  biology  have  not 
only  accepted  all  these,  but  have  added  more  startling 


16  lAY  SERMONS,  ABDItESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [t 

theses  of  tlieir  own.  For,  as  the  astronomers  discover  in 
the  earth  no  centre  of  the  universe,  but  an  eccentric 
speck,  so  the  naturalists  find  man  to  be  no  centre  of 
the  living  world,  but  one  amidst  endless  modifications 
of  life ;  and  as  the  astronomer  observes  the  mark  of 
practically  endless  time  set  upon  the  arrangements  of 
the  solar  system  so  the  student  of  life  finds  the  records 
of  ancient  forms  of  existence  peopling  the  world  for  ages, 
which,  in  relation  to  human  experience,  are  infinite. 

Furthermore,  the  physiologist  finds  life  to  be  as 
dependent  for  its  manifestation  on  particular  molecular 
arrangements  as  any  physical  or  chemical  phsenomenon ; 
and,  wherever  he  extends  his  researches,  fixed  order 
and  unchanging  causation  reveal  themselves,  as  plainly 
as  in  the  rest  of  Nature. 

Nor  can  I  find  that  any  other  fate  has  awaited  the 
germ  of  Eeligion.  Arising,  like  all  other  kinds  oi 
knowledge,  out  of  the  action  and  interaction  of  man's 
mind,  with  that  which  is  not  man's  mind,  it  has  taken 
the  intellectual  coverings  of  Fetishism  or  Polytheism ;  of 
Theism  or  Atheism ;  of  Superstition  or  Eationalism. 
With  these,  and  their  relative  merits  and  demerits,  I 
have  nothing  to  do ;  but  this  it  is  needful  for  my 
purpose  to  say,  that  if  the  religion  of  the  present  differs 
from  that  of  the  past,  it  is  because  the  theology  of  the 
present  has  become  more  scientific  than  that  of  the  past ; 
because  it  has  not  only  renounced  idols  of  wood  and 
idols  of  stone,  but  begins  to  see  the  necessity  of  breaking 
in  pieces  the  idols  built  up  of  books  and  traditions  and 
fine-spun  ecclesiastical  cobwebs :  and  of  cherishing  the 
noblest  and  most  human  of  man's  emotions,  by  worship 
"for  the  most  part  of  the  silent  sort"  at  the  altar  of  the 
Unknown  and  Unknowable. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  new  conceptions  implanted  in 
our  minds  by  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge. 


r.l  JBVISABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE.   17 

Men  have  acquired  tlie  ideas  of  the  practically  infinite 
extent  of  the  universe  and  of  its  practical  eternity ; 
they  are  familiar  with  the  conception  that  our  earth 
is  but  an  infinitesimal  fragment  of  that  part  of  the 
universe  which  can  be  seen  ;  and  that,  nevertheless,  its 
duration  is,  as  compared  with  our  standards  of  time, 
infinite.  They  have  further  acquired  the  idea  that  man 
is  but  one  of  innumerable  forms  of  life  now  existing  in 
the  globe,  and  that  the  present  existences  are  but  the 
last  of  an  immeasurable  series  of  predecessors.  More- 
over, every  step  they  have  made  in  natural  knowledge 
has  tended  to  extend  and  rivet  in  their  minds  the  con- 
ception of  a  definite  order  of  the  universe — which  is 
embodied  in  what  are  called,  by  an  unhappy  metaphor, 
the  laws  of  Nature — and  to  narrow  the  range  and 
loosen  the  force  of  men  s  belief  in  spontaneity,  or  in 
changes  other  than  such  as  arise  out  of  that  definite 
order  itself. 

Whether  these  ideas  are  well  or  ill  founded  is  not  the 
question.  No  one  can  deny  that  they  exist,  and  have 
been  the  inevitable  outgrowth  of  the  improvement  of 
natural  knowledge.  And  if  so,  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  they  are  changing  the  form  of  men's  most  cherished 
and  most  important  convictions. 

And  as  regards  the  second  point — the  extent  to  which 
the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  has  remodelled 
and  altered  what  may  be  termed  the  intellectual  ethics 
of  men, — what  are  among  the  moral  convictions  most 
fondly  held  by  barbarous  and  semi-barbarous  people  ? 

They  are  the  convictions  that  authority  is  the  soundest 
basis  of  belief;  that  merit  attaches  to  a  readiness  to 
believe ;  that  the  doubting  disposition  is  a  bad  one, 
knd  scepticism  a  sin ;  that  when  good  authority  has 
pronounced  what  is  to  be  believed,  and  faith  ha^  ac- 


18  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [f. 

cepted  it,  reason  lias  no  further  duty.  There  are  many 
excellent  persons  who  yet  hold  by  these  principles,  and 
it  is  not  my  present  business,  or  intention,  to  discuss 
their  views.  All  I  wish  to  bring  clearly  before  your 
minds  is  the  unquestionable  fact,  that  the  improvement 
of  natural  knowledge  is  effected  by  methods  which 
directly  give  the  lie  to  all  these  convictions,  and  assume 
the  exact  reverse  of  each  to  be  true. 

The  improver  of  natural  knowledge  absolutely  refuses 
to  acknowledge  authority,  as  such.  For  him,  scepticism 
is  the  highest  of  duties  ;  blind  faith  the  one  unpardon- 
able sin.  And  it  cannot  be  otherwise,  for  every  great 
advance  in  natural  knowledge  has  involved  the  absolute 
rejection  of  authority,  the  cherishing  of  the  keenest 
scepticism,  the  annihilation  of  the  spirit  of  blind  faith. ; 
and  the  most  ardent  votary  of  science  holds  his  firmest 
convictions,  not  because  the  men  he  most  venerates 
hold  them ;  not  because  their  verity  is  testified  by 
portents  and  wonders ;  but  because  his  experience  teaches 
him  that  whenever  he  chooses  to  brino^  these  convictions 
into  contact  with  their  primary  source.  Nature — when- 
ever he  thinks  fit  to  test  them  by  appealing  to  experiment 
and  to  observation — Nature  will  confirm  them.  The 
man  of  science  has  learned  to  believe  in  justification, 
not  by  faith,  but  by  verification. 

Thus,  without  for  a  moment  pretending  to  despise 
the  practical  results  of  the  improvement  of  natural 
knowledo^e,  and  its  beneficial  influence  on  material  civili- 
zation,  it  must,  I  think,  be  admitted  that  the  great 
ideas,  some  of  which  I  have  indicated,  and  the  ethical 
spirit  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  sketch,  in  the  few 
moments  which  remained  at  my  disposal,  constitute  the 
real  and  permanent  significance  of  natural  knowledge. 

If  these  ideas  be  destined,  as  I  believe  they  are,  to 
be  more  and  more  firmly  established  as  the  world  grows 


I.]  ABVISABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOf^'LEDGK   19 

older ;  if  tliat  spirit  be  fated,  as  I  believe  it  is,  to 
extend  itself  into  all  departments  of  human  tlionglit,  and 
to  become  co-extensive  with  the  range  of  knowledQ:e  :  if, 
as  our  race  approaches  its  maturity,  it  discovers,  as  I  be- 
lieve it  will,  that  there  is  but  one  kind  of  knowledge  and 
but  one  method  of  acquiring  it ;  then  we,  who  are  still 
children,  may  justly  feel  it  our  highest  duty  to  recognise 
the  advisableness  of  improving  natural  knowledge,  and 
so  to  aid  ourselves  and  our  successors  in  their  course 
towards  the  noble  goal  which  lies  before  mankind. 


EMANCIPATION— BLACK  AND  WHITE 

Quashie's  plaintive  inquiry,  ''Am  I  not  a  man  and  a 
brother  1 "  seems  at  last  to  have  received  its  final  reply — 
the  recent  decision  of  the  fierce  trial  by  battle  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic  fully  concurring  with  that  long 
since  delivered  here  in  a  more  peaceful  way. 

The  question  is  settled ;  but  even  those  who  are  most 

thoroughly  convinced  that  the  doom  is  just,  must  see 

good  grounds  for  repudiating  half  the  arguments  which 

have   been   employed   by   the   winning   side ;    and  for 

doubting  whether  its  ultimate  results  will  embody  the 

hopes  of  the  victors,  though  they  may  more  than  realize 

the  fears  of  the  vanquished.     It  may  be  quite  true  that 

some  negroes  are  better  than  some  white  men ;  but  no 

rational  man,  cognizant  of  the  facts,  believes  that  the 

average  negro  is  the  equal,  still  less  the  superior,  of  the 

average  white  man.     And,  if  this  be  true,  it  is  simply 

incredible  that,  when  all  his  disabilities  are  removed,  and 

our  prognathous  relative  has  a  fair  field  and  no  favour, 

as  well  as  no  oppressor,  he  will  be    able   to  compete 

successfully  with  his  bigger-brained  and  smaller-jawed 

rival,  in  a  contest  which  is  to  be  carried  on  by  thoughts 

and  not  by  bites.     The  highest  places  in  the  hierarchy  of 

civilization  will  assured!)^  not  be  within  the  reach  of  our 

dusky  cousins,  though  it  is  by  no  mcuns  necessary  that 


II.J  EMANCIPJTION— BLACK  AND  WHITE.  21 

tliey  should  be  restricted  to  the  lowest.  But  whatever 
the  position  of  stable  equilibrinm  into  which  the  laws  of 
social  gravitation  may  bring  the  negro,  all  responsibility 
for  the  result  will  henceforward  lie  between  Nature  and 
him.  The  white  ma,n  may  wash  his  hands  of  it,  and  the 
Caucasian  conscience  be  void  of  reproach  for  evermore. 
And  this,  if  we  look  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter,  is  the 
real  justification  for  the  abolition  policy. 

The  doctrine  of  equal  natural  rights  may  be  an  illogical 
delusion ;  emancipation  may  convert  the  slave  from  a 
well  fed  animal  into  a  pauperised  man ;  mankind  may 
even  have  to  do  without  cotton  shirts  ;  but  all  these  e^ils 
must  be  faced,  if  the  moral  law,  that  no  human  being 
can  arbitrarily  dominate  over  another  without  grievous 
damage  to  his  own  nature,  be,  as  many  think,  as  readily 
demonstrable  by  experiment  as  any  physical  truth.  If 
this  be  true,  no  slavery  can  be  abolished  without  a  double 
emancipation,  and  the  master  will  benefit  by  freedom 
more  than  the  freed-man. 

The  like  considerations  apply  to  all  the  other  questions 
of  emancipation  which  are  at  present  stirring  the  world — 
the  multifarious  demands  that  classes  of  mankind  shall 
be  relieved  from  restrictions  imposed  by  the  artifice  of 
man,  and  not  by  the  necessities  of  Nature.  One  of  the 
most  important,  if  not  the  most  important,  of  all  these,  is 
that  which  daily  threatens  to  become  the  "  irrepressible  " 
woman  question.  What  social  and  political  rights  have 
women  ?  What  ought  they  to  be  allowed,  or  not  allowed 
to  do,  be,  and  suffer  ?  And,  as  involved  in,  and  under- 
lying all  these  questions,  how  ought  they  to  be  educated? 

There  are  philogynists  as  fanatical  as  any  "misogu- 
nists"  who,  reversing  our  antiquated  notions,  bid  the 
man  look  upon  the  woman  as  the  higher  type  of 
humanity ;  who  ask  us  to  regard  the  female  intellect  as 
the  clearer  and  the  quicker,  if  not  the  stronger;  who 


22  lAF  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [it. 

desire  us  to  look  up  to  the  feminine  moral  sense  as  the 
purer  and  the  nobler ;  and  bid  man  abdicate  his  usurped 
sovereignty  over  Nature  in  favour  of  the  female  line. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  persons  not  to  be  outdone 
in  all  loyalty  and  just  respect  for  woman-kind,  but  by 
nature  hard  of  head  and  haters  of  delusion,  however 
charming,  who  not  only  repudiate  the  new  woman- 
worship  which  so  many  sentimentalists  and  some  philo- 
sophers are  desirous  of  setting  up,  but,  carrying  their 
audacity  further,  deny  even  the  natural  equality  of  the 
sexes.  They  assert,  on  the  contrary,  that  in  every 
excellent  character,  wdiether  mental  or  physical,  the 
averag^e  woman  is  inferior  to  the  averag;e  man,  in  the 
sense  of  having  that  character  less  in  quantity,  and  lower 
in  quality.  Tell  these  persons  of  the  rapid  perceptions  and 
the  instinctive  intellectual  insight  of  women,  and  they 
reply  that  the  feminine  mental  peculiarities,  which  pass 
under  these  names,  are  merely  the  outcome  of  a  greater 
impressibility  to  the  superficial  aspects  of  things,  and  of 
the  absence  of  that  restraint  upon  expression,  which,  in 
men,  is  imposed  by  reflection  and  a  sense  of  responsibility. 
Talk  of  the  passive  endurance  of  the  weaker  sex,  and 
opponents  of  this  kind  remind  you  that  Job  was  a  man, 
and  that,  until  quite  recent  times,  patience  and  long- 
suflering  Avere  not  counted  among  the  specially  feminine 
virtues.  Claim  passionate  tenderness  as  especially 
feminine,  and  the  inquiry  is  made  whether  all  the  best 
love-poetry  in  existence  (except,  perhaps,  the  "Sonnets 
from  the  Portuguese " )  has  not  been  written  by  men ; 
whether  the  song  which  embodies  the  ideal  of  pure  and 
tender  passion — Adelaida — was  written  by  Fvau  Beeth- 
oven ;  whether  it  was  the  Fornarina,  or  Raphael,  who 
painted  the  Sistine  Madonna.  Nay,  we  have  known  one 
such  heretic  go  so  far  as  to  lay  his  hands  upon  the  ark 
itself,  so  to  speak,  and  to  defend  the  startling  paradox 


II.]  EMANCIPATION— BLACK  AND  WHITE.  23 

that,  even  in  physical  beauty,  man  is  the  superior.  He 
admitted,  indeed,  that  there  was  a  brief  period  of  eariy 
youth  when  it  might  be  hard  to  say  whether  the  prize 
should  be  awarded  to  the  graceful  undulations  of  the 
female  figure,  or  the  perfect  balance  and  supple  vigour  of 
the  male  frame.  But  while  our  new  Paris  might  hesitate 
between  the  youthful  Bacchus  and  the  Venus  emerging 
from  the  foam,  he  averred  that,  when  Venus  and  Bacchus 
had  reached  thirty,  the  point  no  longer  admitted  of  a 
doubt;  the  male  form  having  then  attained  its  greatest 
nobihty,  while  the  female  is  far  gone  in  decadence ;  and 
that,  at  this  epoch,  womanly  beauty,  so  far  as  it  is  inde- 
pendent of  grace  or  expression,  is  a  question  of  drapery 
and  accessories. 

Supposing,  however,  that  all  these  arguments  have  a 
certain  foundation ;  admitting  for  a  moment,  that  they 
are  comparable  to  those  by  which  the  inferiority  of  the 
negro  to  the  white  man  may  be  demonstrated,  are  they 
of  any  value  as  against  woman-emancipation  ?  Do  they 
afibrd  us  the  smallest  ground  for  refusing  to  educate 
women  as  well  as  men — to  give  women  the  same  civil 
and  political  rights  as  men  ?  No  mistake  is  so  commonly 
made  by  clever  people  as  that  of  assuming  a  cause  to  be 
bad  because  the  arguments  of  its  supporters  are,  to  a 
great  extent,  nonsensical.  And  we  conceive  that  those 
who  may  laugh  at  the  arguments  of  the  extreme 
philogynists,  may  yet  feel  bound  to  work  heart  and  soul 
towards  the  attainment  of  their  practical  ends. 

As  regards  education,  for  example.  Granting  the 
alleged  defects  of  women,  is  it  not  somewhat  absurd  to 
sanction  and  maintain  a  system  of  education  which 
would  seem  to  have  been  specially  contrived  to  ex- 
aggerate all  these  defects  1 

Naturally  not  so  firmly  strung,  nor  so  well  balanced, 
as  boys,  girls  are  in  ^Teat  measure  debarred  from  the 


24  l^T  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [ii. 

sports  and  physical  exercises  wliicli  are  justly  tliouglit 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  full  development  of  the 
vigour  of  the  more  favoured  sex.  Women  are,  by  nature, 
more  excitable  than  nien — prone  to  be  swept  by  tides  of 
emotion,  proceeding  from  hidden  and  inward,  as  well  as 
from  obvious  and  external  causes ;  and  female  education 
does  its  best  to  weaken  every  physical  counterpoise  to 
this  nervous  mobility — tends  in  all  ways  to  stimulate  the 
emotional  part  of  the  mind  and  stunt  the  rest.  We  find 
girls  naturally  timid,  inclined  to  dependence,  born  con- 
servatives;  and  we  teach  them  that  independence  is 
unladylike  ;  that  blind  faith  is  the  right  frame  of  mind  ; 
and  that  whatever  we  may  be  permitted,  and  indeed 
encouraged,  to  do  to  our  brother,  our  sister  is  to  be  left 
to  the  tyranny  of  authority  and  tradition.  With  few 
insignificant  exceptions,  girls  have  been  educated  either 
to  be  drudges,  or  toys,  beneath  man  ;  or  a  sort  of  angels 
abcwe  him;  the  highest  ideal  aimed  at  oscillating  between 
Clarchen  and  Beatrice.  The  possibility  that  the  ideal  of 
womanhood  lies  neither  in  the  fair  saint,  nor  in  the  fair 
sinner ;  that  the  female  type  of  character  is  neither 
better  nor  worse  than  the  male,  but  only  weaker ;  that, 
women  are  meant  neither  to  be  men's  guides  nor  their 
playthings,  but  their  comrades,  their  fellows  and  their 
equals,  so  far  as  Nature  puts  no  bar  to  that  equality,  does 
not  seem  to  have  entered  into  the  minds  of  those  who 
have  had  the  conduct  of  the  education  of  girls. 

If  the  present  system  of  female  education  stands  self- 
condemned,  as  inherently  absurd ;  and  if  that  which  we 
have  just  indicated  is  the  true  position  of  woman,  what 
is  the  first  step  towards  a  better  state  of  things  ?  We 
reply,  emancipate  girls.  Eecognise  the  fact  that  they 
share  the  senses,  perceptions,  feelings,  reasoning  powers, 
emotions,  of  boys,  and  that  the  mind  of  the  average  girl 
is  less  diii'erent  from  that  of  the  average  boy,  than  the 


ii.]  EMANCIPATION— BLACK  AND  WHITE.  25 

mincl  of  one  boy  is  from  that  of  another ;  so  that  what- 
ever argument  justifies  a  given  education  for  all  boys, 
justifies  its  application  to  girls  as  well.  So  far  from 
imposing  artificial  restrictions  upon  the  acquirement  of 
knowledge  by  w^omen,  throw  every  facility  in  their  way. 
Let  our  Faustinas,  if  they  will,  toil  through  the  whole 
round  of 

"  Jnristerei  und  Medizin, 
Uiid  leider  !   audi  Piiilosophie.  " 

Let  us  have  "sweet  girl  graduates"  by  all  means.  They 
will  be  none  the  less  sweet  for  a  little  wisdom ;  and  the 
"golden  hair"  will  not  curl  less  gracefully  outside  the 
head  by  reason  of  there  being  brains  wdthin.  Nay,  if 
obvious  practical  difiiculties  can  be  overcome,  let  those 
women  who  feel  inclined  to  do  so  descend  into  the 
gladiatorial  arena  of  life,  not  merely  in  the  guise  of 
retiarice,  as  heretofore,  but  as  bold  sicarice,  breasting  the 
open  fray.  Let  them,  if  they  so  please,  become  mer- 
chants, barristers,  politicians.  Let  them  have  a  fair  field, 
but  let  them  understand,  as  the  necessary  correlative, 
that  they  are  to  have  no  favour.  Let  Nature  alone  sit 
high  above  the  lists,  "  rain  influence  and  judge  the 
prize." 

And  the  result?  For  our  parts,  though  loth  to 
prophesy,  w^e  believe  it  will  be  that  of  other  emanci- 
pations. Women  wdll  find  their  place,  and  it  will  neither 
be  that  in  which  they  have  been  held,  nor  that  to  wdiich 
some  of  them  aspire.  Nature's  old  salique  law  will  not 
be  repealed,  and  no  change  of  dynasty  will  be  effected. 
The  big  chests,  the  massive  brains,  the  vigorous  muscles 
and  stout  frames,  of  the  best  men  will  carry  the  day, 
whenever  it  is  worth  their  while  to  contest  the  prizes  of 
life  with  the  best  women.  And  the  hardship  of  it  is, 
that  the  very  improvement  of   the  women  will  lessen 


26  l^Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [ii. 

tlieir  chances.  Better  motliers  will  bring  forth  better 
sons,  and  the  impetus  gained  by  the  one  sex  will  be 
transmitted,  in  the  next  generation,  to  the  other.  The 
most  Darwinian  of  theorists  will  not  venture  to  pro- 
pound the  doctrine,  that  the  physical  disabilities  under 
which  women  have  hitherto  laboured,  in  the  struggle  for 
existence  with  men,  are  likely  to  be  removed  by  even  the 
most  skilfully  conducted  process  of  educational  selection. 

We  are,  indeed,  fully  prepared  to  believe  that  the 
bearing  of  children  may,  and  ought,  to  become  as  free 
from  danger  and  long  disability,  to  the  civilized  woman, 
as  it  is  to  the  savage ;  nor  is  it  improbable  that,  as 
society  advances  towards  its  right  organization,  mother- 
hood will  occupy  a  less  space  of  woman's  life  than  it  has 
hitherto  done.  But  still,  unless  the  human  species  is  to 
come  to  an  end  altoo^ether — a  consummation  which  can 
hardly  be  desired  by  even  the  most  ardent  advocate  of 
'^  women's  rights  " — somebody  must  be  good  enough  to 
take  the  trouble  and  responsibility  of  annually  adding  to 
the  world  exactly  as  many  people  as  die  out  of  it.  In 
consequence  of  some  domestic  difficulties,  Sydney  Smith 
is  said  to  have  suggested  that  it  would  have  been  good 
for  the  human  race  had  the  model  offered  by  the  hive 
been  followed,  and  had  all  the  working  part  of  the  female 
community  been  neuters.  Failing  any  thorough-going 
reform  of  this  kind,  we  see  nothing  for  it  but  the  old 
division  of  humanity  into  men  potentially,  or  actually, 
fathers,  and  women  potentially,  if  not  actually,  mothers. 
And  we  fear  that  so  long  as  this  potential  motherhood  is 
her  lot,  woman  will  be  found  to  be  fearfully  weighted  in 
the  race  of  life. 

The  duty  of  man  is  to  see  that  not  a  grain  is  piled 
upon  that  load  beyond  what  Nature  imposes;  that 
injustice  is  rot  added  to  inec[uality. 


A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION ;   AM) 
WHEEE  TO  FIND  IT. 

The  business  wliicli  the  South  London  Working  Mens 
College  has  unclertaken  is  a  great  work ;  indeed,  I  might 
say,  that  Education,  with  which  that  college  proposes  to 
grapple,  is  the  greatest  work  of  all  those  which  lie  ready 
to  a  man's  hand  just  at  present. 

And,  at  length,  this  fact  is  becoming  generally  recog- 
nised. You  cannot  go  anywhere  without  hearing  a  buzz 
of  more  or  less  confused  and  contradictory  talk  on  this 
subject — nor  can  you  fail  to  notice  that,  in  one  point  at 
any  rate,  there  is  a  very  decided  advance  upon  like 
discussions  in  former  days.  Nobody  outside  the  agri- 
cultural interest  now  dares  to  say  that  education  is  a 
bad  thing.  If  any  representative  of  the  once  large  and 
pow^erful  party,  Avhich,  in  former  days,  proclaimed  this 
opinion,  still  exists  in  a  semi-fossil  state,  he  keeps  his 
thoughts  to  himself  In  fact,  there  is  a  chorus  of  voices, 
almost  distressing  in  their  harmony,  raised  in  favour  of 
the  doctrine  that  education  is  the  great  panacea  for 
human  troubles,  and  that,  if  the  country  is  not  shortly 
to  go  to  the  dogs,  everybody  must  be  educated. 

The  politicians  tell  us,  "  you  must  educate  the  masses 
because  they  are  going  to  be  masters."  The  clergy  join 
ID  the  cry  for  education,  for  they  affirm  that  the  people 


as  I^Jy  SERMONS,  ABDBESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [iii. 

are  drifting  away  from  clmrch  and  chapel  into  the 
broadest  infidelity.  The  manufacturers  and  the  capita- 
lists swell  the  chorus  lustily.  They  declare  that  igno- 
rance makes  bad  workmen ;  that  England  will  soon  be 
unable  to  turn  out  cotton  goods,  or  steam  engines, 
cheaper  than  other  people  ;  and  then,  Ichabod  !  Ichabod ! 
the  glory  will  be  departed  from  us.  And  a  few  voices 
are  lifted  up  in  favour  of  the  doctrine  that  the  masses 
should  be  educated  because  they  are  men  and  women 
with  unlimited  capacities  of  being,  doing,  and  suffering, 
and  that  it  is  as  true  now,  as  ever  it  was,  that  the  people 
perish  for  lack  of  knowledge. 

These  members  of  the  minority,  with  whom  I  confess 
I  have  a  good  deal  of  sympathy,  are  doubtful  whether 
any  of  the  other  reasons  urged  in  favour  of  the  education 
of  the  people  are  of  much  value — whether,  indeed,  some 
of  them  are  based  upon  either  wise  or  noble  grounds  of 
action.  They  question  if  it  be  wise  to  tell  people  that 
you  will  do  for  them,  out  of  fear  of  their  power,  what 
you  have  left  undone,  so  long  as  your  only  motive  was 
compassion  for  their  weakness  and  their  sorrows.  And,  if 
ignorance  of  everything  which  it  is  needful  a  ruler  should 
know  is  likely  to  do  so  much  harm  in  the  governing 
classes  of  the  future,  why  is  it,  they  ask  reasonably 
enough,  that  such  ignorance  in  the  governing  classes  of 
the  past  has  not  been  viewed  with  equal  horror  ? 

Compare  the  average  artisan  and  the  average  country 
squire,  and  it  may  be  doubted  if  you  will  find  a  pin  to 
choose  between  the  two  in  point  of  ignorance,  class 
feeling,  or  prejudice.  It  is  true  that  the  ignorance  is  of 
a  different  sort — that  the  class  feeling  is  in  favour  of  a 
different  class,  and  that  the  prejudice  has  a  distinct 
favour  of  wrong-headedness  in  each  case— but  it  is 
questionable  if  the  one  is  either  a  bit  better,  or  a  bit 
worse,  than  the  other.     The  old  protectionist  theory  is 


ni.]  A  LIBERAL  UDUCATION,  29 

the  doctrine  of  trades  unions  as  applied  by  tlie  squires, 
and  tlie  modern  trades  unionism  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
squires  applied  by  the  artisans.  Why  should  we  be 
worse  off  under  one  regime  than  under  the  other  ? 

Again,  this  sceptical  minority  asks  the  clergy  to  think 
whether  it  is  really  want  of  education  which  keeps  the 
masses  away  from  their  ministrations — whether  the  most 
completely  educated  men  are  not  as  open  to  reproach  on 
this  score  as  the  workmen  ;  and  whetlier,  perchance,  this 
may  not  indicate  that  it  is  not  education  which  lies  at 
the  bottom  of  the  matter  ? 

Once  more,  these  people,  whom  there  is  no  pleasing, 
venture  to  doubt  whether  the  glory,  which  rests  upon 
being  able  to  undersell  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  is  a  very 
safe  kind  of  glory — ^whether  we  may  not  purchase  it  too 
dear ;  especially  if  we  allow  education,  which  ought  to 
be  directed  to  the  making  of  men,  to  be  diverted  into  a 
process  of  manufacturing  human  tools,  Avonderfully  adroit 
in  the  exercise  of  some  technical  industry,  but  good  for 
nothing  else. 

And,  finally,  these  people  inquire  whether  it  is  the 
masses  alone  who  need  a  reformed  and  improved  educa- 
tion. They  ask  whether  the  richest  of  our  public  schools 
might  not  well  be  made  to  supply  knowledge,  as  well  as 
gentlemanly  habits,  a  strong  class  feeling,  and  eminent 
proficiency  in  cricket.  They  seem  to  think  that  the  noble 
foundations  of  our  old  universities  are  hardly  fulfilling 
their  functions  in  their  present  posture  of  half-clerical 
seminaries,  half  racecourses,  where  men  are  trained  to 
win  a  senior  wranglership,  or  a  double-first,  as  horses  a,re 
trained  to  win  a  cup,  with  as  little  reference  to  the  n^eds 
of  after-life  in  the  case  of  the  man  as  in  that  of  the 
racer.  And,  while  as  zealous  for  education  as  the  rest, 
they  affirm  that,  if  the  education  of  the  richer  classes 
were   such   as  to   fit  them  to  be  the  leaders  and   the 


30  Ur  SEBMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [in. 

governors  of  tlie  poorer ;  and,  if  tlie  education  of  the 
poorer  classes  were  such  as  to  enable  them  to  appreciate 
really  wise  guidance  and  good  governance  ;  the  politicians 
need  not  fear  mob-law,  nor  the  clergy  lament  their  want 
of  flocks,  nor  the  capitalists  prognosticate  the  annihilation 
of  the  prosperity  of  the  country. 

Such  is  the  diversity  of  opinion  upon  the  why  and  the 
wherefore  of  education.  And  my  hearers  will  be  pre- 
pared to  expect  that  the  practical  recommendations 
which  are  put  forward,  are  not  less  discordant.  There  is 
a  loud  cry  for  compulsory  education.  We  English,  in 
spite  of  constant  experience  to  the  contrary,  preserve  a 
touching  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  acts  of  parliament ;  and 
I  believe  we  should  have  compulsory  education  in  the 
course  of  next  session,  if  there  were  the  least  probability 
that  half  a  dozen  leading  statesmen  of  different  parties 
would  aoTce  what  that  education  should  be. 

o 

Some  hold  that  education  without  theology  is  v/orse  than 
none.  Others  maintain,  quite  as  strongly,  that  educa- 
tion with  theology  is  in  the  same  predicament.  But  this 
is  certain,  that  those  who  hold  the  first  opinion  can  by  no 
means  agree  what  theology  should  be  taught ;  and  that 
those  who  maintain  the  second  are  in  a  small  minority. 

At  any  rate  "make  people  learn  to  read,  write,  and 
cipher,^'  say  a  great  many ;  and  the  advice  is  un- 
doubtedly sensible  as  far  as  it  goes.  But,  as  has 
happened  to  me  in  former  days,  those  who,  in  despair  of 
getting  anything  better,  advocate  this  measure,  are  met 
with  the  objection  that  it  is  very  like  making  a  child 
pra,ctise  the  use  of  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  without 
giving  it  a  particle  of  meat.  I  really  don't  know  what 
reply  is  to  be  made  to  such  an  objection. 

But  it  would  be  unprofitable  to  spend  more  time  in 
disentangling,  or  rather  in  showing  up  the  knots  in,  the 
ravelled  skeins  of  our  neighbours.     Sluch  more  to  the 


HI.]  A  LIB-ERAL  EDUCATION.  31 

purpose  is  it  to  ask  if  we  possess  any  clue  of  our  own 
wliich  may  guide  us  among  these  entanglements.  And 
by  way  of  a  beginning,  let  us  ask  ourselves — What  is 
education  ?  Above  all  things,  what  is  our  ideal  of  a 
thoroughly  liberal  education  ? — of  that  education  which, 
if  we  could  begin  life  again,  we  would  give  ourselves — 
of  that  education  which,  if  we  could  mould  the  fates  to 
our  own  will,  we  would  give  our  children.  Well,  I  know 
not  what  may  be  your  conceptions  upon  this  matter, 
but  I  vfill  tell  you  mine,  and  I  hope  I  shall  find  that  our 
views  are  not  very  discrepant. 

Suppose  it  were  perfectly  certain  that  the  life  and 
fortune  of  every  one  of  us  would,  one  day  or  other, 
depend  upon  his  winning  or  losing  a  game  at  chess. 
Don't  you  think  that  we  should  all  consider  it  to  be  a 
primary  duty  to  learn  at  least  the  names  and  the  moves 
of  the  pieces ;  to  have  a  notion  of  a  gambit,  and  a  keen 
eye  for  all  the  means  of  giving  and  getting  out  of  check  ? 
Do  you  not  think  that  we  should  look  with  a  disappro- 
bation amounting  to  scorn,  upon  the  father  who  allowed 
his  son,  or  the  state  which  allowed  its  members,  to  grow 
up  without  knowing  a  pawn  from  a  knight  ? 

Yet  it  is  a  very  plain  and  elementary  truth,  that  the 
life,  the  fortune,  and  the  happiness  of  every  one  of  us, 
and,  more  or  less,  of  those  who  are  connected  with  us,  do 
depend  upon  our  kn owing  something  of  the  rules  of  a 
game  infinitely  more  difficult  and  complicated  than  chess. 
It  is  a  game  which  has  been  played  for  untold  ages,  every 
man  and  woman  of  us  being  one  of  the  two  players  in  a 
game  of  his  or  her  own.  The  chess-board  is  the  world, 
the  pieces  are  the  phenomena  of  the  universe,  the  rules 
of  the  game  are  what  we  call  the  laws  of  Nature.  The 
player  on  the  other  side  is  hidden  from  us.  We  know 
that  his  play  is  always  fair,  just,  and  patient.     But  also 


32  LAY  SJERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AWD  REVIEWS.  [ni 

we  know,  to  our  cost,  tliat  lie  never  overlooks  a  mistake, 
or  makes  tlie  smallest  allowance  for  ignorance.  To  the 
man  who  plays  well,  the  highest  stakes  are  paid,  with  that 
sort  of  overflowing  generosity  with  which  the  strong 
shows  delight  in  strength.  And  one  who  plays  ill  is 
checkmated — without  haste,  but  without  remorse. 

My  metaphor  will  remind  some  of  yon  of  the  famous 
picture  in  which  Eetzsch  has  depicted  Satan  playing  at 
chess  with  man  for  his  soul.  Substitute  for  the  mocking 
fiend  in  that  picture,  a  calm,  strong  angel  who  is  playing 
for  love,  as  we  say,  and  would  rather  lose  than  win — and 
I  should  accept  it  as  an  image  of  human  life. 

Well,  what  I  mean  by  Education  is  learning  the  rules 
of  this  mighty  game.  In  other  words,  education  is  the 
instruction  of  the  intellect  in  the  laws  of  Nature,  under 
which  name  I  include  not  merely  things  and  their  forces, 
but  men  and  their  ways ;  and  the  fashioning  of  the 
affections  and  of  the  will  into  an  earnest  and  lovins; 
desire  to  move  in  harmony  with  those  laws.  For  me, 
education  means  neither  more  nor  less  than  this.  Any- 
thing which  professes  to  call  itself  education  must  be 
tried  by  this  standard,  and  if  it  fails  to  stand  the  test,  J 
will  not  call  it  education,  whatever  may  be  the  force  of 
authority,  or  of  numbers,  upon  the  other  side. 

It  is  important  to  remember  that,  in  strictness,  there 
is  no  such  thins^  as  an  uneducated  man.  Take  an  ex- 
treme  case.  SujDpose  that  an  adult  man,  in  the  full 
vigour  of  his  faculties,  could  be  suddenly  placed  in  the 
world,  as  Adam  is  said  to  have  been,  and  then  left  to 
do  as  he  best  might.  How  long  would  he  be  left 
uneducated  ?  Not  ^yq  minutes.  Nature  would  begin 
to  teach  him,  through  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  touch,  the 
properties  of  objects.  Pain  and  pleasure  would  be  at  his 
elbow  telling  him  to  do  this  and  avoid  that;  and  by  slow 
degrees  the  man  would  receive  an  education,  which,  if 


III.]  A  LWERAL  EDUCATION.  33 

narrow,  would  be  tliorougli,  real,  and  adequate  to  his 
circumstances,  thougli  there  would  be  no  extras  and  very- 
few  accomplishments. 

And  if  to  this  solitary  man  entered  a  second  Adam, 
or,  better  still,  an  Eve,  a  new  and  greater  world,  that  of 
social  and  moral  phenomena,  would  be  revealed.  Joys 
and  woes,  compared  with  which  all  others  might  seem 
but  faint  shadows,  would  spring  from  the  new  relations. 
Happiness  and  sorrow  would  take  the  place  of  the 
coarser  monitors,  pleasure  and  pain ;  but  conduct  would 
still  be  shaped  by  the  observation  of  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  actions ;  or,  in  other  words,  by  the  laws  or 
the  nature  of  man. 

To  every  one  of  us  the  world  was  once  as  fresh  and 
new  as  to  Adam.  And  then,  long  before  we  were  sus- 
ceptible of  any  other  mode  of  instruction,  Nature  took 
us  in  hand,  and  every  minute  of  waking  life  brought  its 
educational  influence,  shaping  our  actions  into  rough - 
accordance  with  Nature's  laws,  so  that  we  might  not  be 
ended  untimely  by  too  gross  disobedience.  Nor  should 
I  speak  of  this  process  of  education  as  past,  for  any  one, 
be  he  as  old  as  he  may.  For  every  man,  the  world  is  as 
fresh  as  it  was  at  the  first  day,  and  as  full  of  untold 
novelties  for  him  who  has  the  eyes  to  see  them.  And 
Nature  is  still  continuing  her  patient  education  of  us  in 
that  great  university,  the  universe,  of  which  we  are  all 
members — Nature  having  no  Test-Acts. 

Those  who  take  honours  in  Nature's  university,  who 
learn  the  laws  which  govern  men  and  things  and  obey 
them,  are  the  really  great  and  successful  men  in  this 
world.  The  great  mass  of  mankind  arc  the  ''  Poll,"  who 
pick  up  just  enough  to  get  through  without  much  dis- 
credit. Those  who  won't  learn  at  all  ai^e  plucked ;  and 
then  you  can't  come  up  again.  Nature's  pluck  means 
extermination. 


34  XJ7  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [m. 

Thus  the  question  of  compulsory  education  is  settled 
so  far  as  Nature  is  concerned.  Her  bill  on  that  question 
was  framed  and  passed  long  ago.  But,  like  all  com- 
pulsory legislation,  that  of  Nature  is  harsh  and  wasteful 
in  its  *  operation.  Ignorance  is  visited  as  sharply  as 
wilful  disobedience — incapacity  meets  with  the  same 
punishment  as  crime.  Nature's  discipline  is  not  even  a 
word  and  a  blow,  and  the  blow  first ;  but  the  blow 
without  the  word.  It  is  left  to  you  to  find  out  why 
your  ears  are  boxed. 

The  object  of  what  we  commonly  call  education — that 
education  in  which  man  intervenes  and  which  I  shall 
distino^uish  as  artificial  education — is  to  make  Q:ood  these 
defects  in  Nature's  methods ;  to  prepare  the  child  to 
receive  Nature's  education,  neither  incapably  nor  igno- 
ranfcly,  nor  with  wilful  disobedience ;  and  to  understand 
the  preliminary  symptoms  of  her  displeasure,  without 
waiting  for  the  box  on  the  ear.  In  short,  all  artificial 
education  ought  to  be  an  anticipation  of  natural  educa- 
tion. And.  a  liberal  education  is  an  artificial  education, 
which  has  not  only  prepared  a  man  to  escape  the 
great  evils  of  disobedience  to  natural  laws,  but  has 
trained  him  to  appreciate  and  to  seize  upon  the  rewards, 
which  Nature  scatters  with  as  free  a  hand  as  her 
penalties. 

That  man,  I  think,  has  had  a  liberal  education,  who 
has  been  so  trained  in  youth  that  his  body  is  the  ready 
servant  of  his  will,  and  does  Avith  ease  and  pleasure  all 
the  work  that,  as  a  mechanism,  it  is  capable  of ;  whose 
intellect  is  a  clear,  cold,  logic  engine,  with  all  its  parts 
of  equal  strength,  and  in  smooth  working  order ;  ready, 
like  a  steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind  of  work, 
and  spin  the  gossamers  as  well  as  forge  the  anchors  of 
the  mind  ;  whose  mind  is  store:!  with  a  knowledge  of 
the  great  and  fundamental  truths  of  Nature  and  of  the 


in.]  A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION.  S5 

laws  of  lier  operations ;  one  wlio,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is 
full  of  life  and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to 
come  to  heel  by  a  vigorous  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender 
conscience ;  who  has  learned  to  love  all  beauty,  whether 
of  Nature  or  of  art,  to  hate  all  vileness,  and  to  respect 
others  as  himself. 

Such  an  one  and  no  other,  I  conceive,  has  had  a  liberal 
education ;  for  he  is,  as  completely  as  a  man  can  be,  in" 
harmony  with  Nature.  He  will  make  the  best  of  her, 
and  she  of  him.  They  will  get  on  together  rarely ;  she 
as  his  ever  beneficent  mother ;  he  as  her  mouth-piece, 
her  conscious  self,  her  minister  and  interpreter. 

Where  is  such  an  education  as  this  to  be  had  ? 
Where  is  there  any  approximation  to  it '?  Has  any  one 
tried  to  found  such  an  education  ?  Looking  over  the 
length  and  breadth  of  these  islands,  I  am  afraid  that  all 
these  questions  must  receive  a  negative  answer.  Con- 
sider our  primary  schools,  and  what  is  taught  in  them. 
A  child  learns  : — 

1.  To  read,  write,  and  cipher,  more  or  less  well;  but 
in  a  very  large  proportion  of  cases  not  so  well  as  to  take 
pleasure  in  reading,  or  to  be  able  to  write  the  commonest 
letter  properly. 

2.  A  quantity  of  dogmatic  theology,  of  Avhich  \\\<d 
child,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  understands  next  to  nothing. 

3.  Mixed  up  with  this,  so  as  to  seem  to  stand  or  fall 
with  it,  a  few  of  the  broadest  and  simplest  principles  of 
morality.  This,  to  my  mind,  is  much  as  if  a  man  of 
science  should  make  the  story  of  the  fall  of  the  apple  in 
Newton's  garden,  an  integral  part  of  the  doctrine  of 
gravitation,  and  teach  it  as  of  equal  authority  with  the 
law  of  the  inverse  squares. 

4.  A  good  deal  of  Jewish  history  and  Syrian  geo- 
grapliyj  and,  perhaps,  a  little  something  about  English 


35  LAY  SER3I0NS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [lit. 

history  and  tlie  geograpliy  of  the  child's  own  country. 
But  I  doubt  if  there  is  a  primary  school  in  England  in 
which  hangs  a  map  of  the  hundred  in  which  the  village 
lies,  so  that  the  children  may  be  practically  taught  by  it 
what  a  map  means. 

5.  A  certain  amount  of  regularity,  attentive  obedience, 
respect  for  others  :  obtained  by  fear,  if  the  master  be  in- 
competent or  foolish;  by  love  and  reverence,  if  he  be  wise. 

So  far  as  this  school  course  embraces  a  training  in 
the  theory  and  practice  of  obedience  to  the  moral  laws 
of  Nature,  I  gladly  admit,  not  only  that  it  contains  a 
valuable  educational  element,  but  that,  so  far,  it  deals 
with  the  most  valuable  and  important  part  of  all  educa- 
tion. Yet,  contrast  what  is  done  in  this  direction  with 
what  might  be  done ;  with  the  time  given  to  matters  of 
comparatively  no  importance ;  with  the  absence  of  any 
attention  to  things  of  the  highest  moment ;  and  one  is 
tempted  to  think  of  Falstaff's  bill  and  "the  halfpenny 
worth  of  bread  to  all  that  quantity  of  sack." 

Let  us  consider  what  a  child  thus  "  educated  "  knows, 
and  what  it  does  not  know.  Begin  with  the  most  im- 
portant topic  of  all — morality,  as  the  guide  of  conduct. 
The  child  knows  well  enouo;h  that  some  acts  meet  with 
approbation  and  some  with  disapprobation.  But  it  has 
never  heard  that  there  lies  in  the  nature  of  things  a 
reason  for  every  moral  law,  as  cogent  and  as  well  defined 
as  that  which  underlies  every  physical  law  ;  that  stealing 
and  lying  are  just  as  certain  to  be  followed  by  evil 
consequences,  as  putting  your  hand  in  the  fire,  or  jump- 
ing out  of  a  garret  window.  Again,  though  the  scholar 
may  have  been  made  acquainted,  in  dogmatic  fashion, 
with  the  broad  laws  of  morality,  he  has  had  no  training 
in  the  application  of  those  laws  to  the  difficult  problems 
which  result  from  the  complex  conditions  of  modern 
civiiization.    Would  it  not  be  very  hard  to  expect  any  one 


III.]  A  LIB-EBAL  EDUCATION,  37 

to  solve  a  problem  in  conic  sections  wlio  had  merely  been 
taugbt  the  axioms  and  definitions  of  mathematical  science? 

A  workman  has  to  bear  hard  labour,  and  perhaps 
privation,  while  he  sees  others  rolling  in  wealth,  and 
feeding  their  dogs  with  what  would  keep  his  children 
from  starvation.  Would  it  not  be  well  to  have  helped 
that  man  to  calm  the  natural  promptings  of  discontent 
by  showing  him,  in  his  youth,  the  necessary  connexion 
of  the  moral  law  which  prohibits  stealing  with  the 
stability  of  society — by  proving  to  him,  once  for  all,  that 
it  is  better  for  his  own  people,  better  for  himself,  better 
for  future  generations,  that  he  should  starve  than  steal  ? 
If  you  have  no  foundation  of  knowledge,  or  habit  of 
thought,  to  work  upon,  what  chance  have  you  of  persua- 
ding a  hungry  man  that  a  capitalist  is  not  a  thief  "  with 
a  circumbendibus  ? "  And  if  he  honestly  believes  that,  of 
what  avail  is  it  to  quote  the  commandment  against  steal- 
ing, when  he  proposes  to  make  the  capitalist  disgorge  ? 

Again,  the  child  learns  absolutely  nothing  of  the 
history  or  the  political  organization  of  his  own  country. 
His  general  impression  is,  that  everything  of  much  im- 
portance happened  a  very  long  while  ago ;  and  that  the 
Queen  and  the  gentlefolks  govern  the  country  much 
after  the  fashion  of  King  David  and  the  elders  and 
nobles  of  Israel — his  sole  models.  Will  you  give  a  man 
with  this  much  information  a  vote  ?  In  easy  times  he 
sells  it  for  a  pot  of  beer.  Why  should  he  not  ?  It  is  of 
about  as  much  use  to  him  as  a  chignon,  and  he  knows  as 
much  what  to  do  with  it,  for  any  other  purpose.  In  bad 
times,  on  the  contrary,  he  applies  his  simple  theory  of 
government,  and  believes  that  his  rulers  are  the  cause  of 
his  sufferings — a  belief  which  sometimes  bears  remark- 
able practical  fruits. 

Least  of  all,  does  the  child  gather  from  this  primary 
"education"  of   ours  a  conception  of  the  laws  of  the 


38  l^T  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ifJ. 

physical  world,  or  of  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect 
therein.  And  this  is  the  more  to  be  lamented,  as  the 
poor  are  especially  exposed  to  physical  evils,  and  are 
more  interested  in  removing  them  than  any  other  class 
of  the  community.  If  any  one  is  concerned  in  knowing 
the  ordinary  laws  of  mechanics  one  would  think  it  is  the 
hand-iabourer,  whose  daily  toil  lies  among  levers  and 
pulleys  ;  or  among  the  other  implements  of  artisan  work. 
And  if  any  one  is  interested  in  the  laws  of  health,  it  is 
the  poor  workman,  v/hose  strength  is  wasted  by  ill-pre- 
pared food,  whose  health  is  sapped  by  bad  ventilation  and 
bad  drainage,  and  half  whose  children  are  massacred  by 
disorders  which  might  be  prevented.  Not  only  does  our 
present  primary  education  carefully  abstain  from  hinting' 
to  the  workman  that  some  of  his  greatest  evils  are  trace- 
able to  mere  physical  agencies,  which  could  be  removed 
by  energy,  patience,  and  frugality ;  but  it  does  worse — 
it  renders  him,  so  far  as  it  can,  deaf  to  those  who  could 
help  him,  and  tries  to  substitute  an  Oriental  submission 
to  what  is  falsely  declared  to  be  the  will  of  God,  for  his 
natural  tendency  to  strive  after  a  better  condition. 

What  Avonder  then,  if  very  recently,  an  appeal  has 
been  made  to  statistics  for  the  profoundly  foolish  pur- 
pose of  showing  that  education  is  of  no  good — that  it 
diminishes  neither  misery,  nor  crime,  among  the  masses  of 
mankind  ?  I  reply,  why  should  the  thing  which  has 
been  called  education  do  either  the  one  or  the  other  1  If 
I  am  a  knave  or  a  fool,  teaching  me  to  read  and  write 
won't  make  me  less  of  either  one  or  the  other — unless 
somebody  shows  me  how  to  put  my  reading  and  writing 
to  wise  and  good  purposes. 

Suppose  any  one  were  to  argue  that  medicine  is  of  no 
use,  because  it  could  be  proved  statistically,  that  the 
percentage  of  deaths  was  just  the  same,  among  people 
who  had  been  taught  how  to  open  a  medicine. chest,  and 


nij  A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION.  39 

among  tliose  who  did  not  so  much  as  know  the  key  by 
sight.  The  argument  is  absurd ;  but  it  is  not  m  ore 
prepostorous  than  that  against  which  I  am  contending. 
The  only  medicine  for  suffering,  crime,  and  all  the  other 
woes  of  mankind,  is  wisdom.  Teach  a  man  to  read  and 
write,  and  you  have  put  into  his  hands  the  great  keys  of 
the  wisdom  box.  But  it  is  quite  another  matter  whether 
he  ever  opens  the  box  or  not.  And  he  is  as  likely  to 
poison  as  to  cure  himself,  if,  without  guidance,  he 
swallows  the  first  drug  that  comes  to  hand.  In  these 
times  a  man  may  as  well  be  purblind,  as  unable  to  read 
— lame,  as  unable  to  write.  But  I  protest  that,  if  I 
thought  the  alternative  were  a  necessary  one,  I  would 
rather  that  the  children  of  the  poor  should  grow  up 
ignorant  of  both  these  mighty  arts,  than  that  they  should 
remain  ignorant  of  that  knowledge  to  which  these  arts 


are  means. 


It  may  be  said  that  all  these  animadversions  may 
apply  to  primary  schools,  but  that  the  higher  schools,  at 
any  rate,  must  be  allowed  to  give  a  liberal  education. 
In  fact,  they  professedly  sacrifice  everything  else  to  this 
object. 

Let  us  inquire  into  this  matter.  What  do  the  higher 
schools,  those  to  which  the  great  middle  class  of  the 
country  sends  it  children,  teach,  over  and  above  the  in- 
struction given  in  the  primary  schools  ?  There  is  a  little 
more  reading  and  ^T:iting  of  English.  But,  for  all  that, 
every  one  knows  that  it  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a  boy  of 
the  middle  or  upper  classes  who  can  read  aloud  decently, 
or  who  can  put  his  thoughts  on  paper  in  clear  and  gram- 
matical (to  say  nothing  of  good  or  elegant)  language. 
The  "  ciphering"  of  the  lower  schools  expands  into 
elementary  mathematics  in  the  higher ;  into  arithmetic, 
with  a  little  algebra,  a  little  Euclid.     But  I  doubt  if 


40  l^T  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [in. 

one  boy  in  five  liundred  has  ever  heard  the  explanation 
of  a  rule  of  arithmetic,  or  knows  his  Euclid  otherwise 
than  by  rote. 

Of  theology,  the  middle  class  schoolboy  gets  rather 
less  than  poorer  children,  less  absolutely  and  less  rela- 
tively, because  there  are  so  many  other  claims  upon  his 
attention.  I  venture  to  say  that,  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases,  his  ideas  on  this  subject  when  he  leaves  school 
are  of  the  most  shadowy  and  vague  description,  and 
associated  with  painful  impressions  of  the  weary  hours 
spent  in  learning  collects  and  catechism  by  heart. 

Modern  geography,  modern  history,  modern  literature  , 
the  English  language  as  a  language  ;  the  w^hole  circle 
of  the  sciences,  physical,  moral,  and  social,  are  even 
more  completely  ignored  in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower 
schools.  Up  till  within  a  few  years  back,  a  boy  might 
have  passed  through  any  one  of  the  great  public  schools 
with  the  greatest  distinction  and  credit,  and  might  never 
so  much  as  have  heard  of  one  of  the  subjects  I  have 
iust  mentioned.  He  mio;ht  never  have  heard  that  the 
earth  goes  round  the  sun ;  that  England  underwent  a 
great  revolution  in  1688,  and  France  another  in  1789; 
that  there  once  lived  certain  notable  men  called  Chaucer, 
Shakspeare,  Milton,  Yoltaire,  Goethe,  Schiller.  The  first 
might  be  a  G-erman  and  the  last  an  Englishman  for  any- 
thing he  could  tell  you  to  the  contrary.  And  as  for 
science,  the  only  idea  the  word  would  suggest  to  his 
mind  would  be  dexterity  in  boxing. 

I  have  said  that  this  was  the  state  of  things  a  few 
years  back,  for  the  sake  of  the  few  righteous  who  are 
to  be  found  among  the  educational  cities  of  the  plain. 
But  I  would  not  have  you  too  sanguine  about  the  result, 
if  you  sound  the  minds  of  the  existing  generation  of 
public  schoolboys,  on  such  topics  as  those  I  have 
mentioned. 


III.]  A  LIBERAL  BDTJCATION,  41 

Now  let  us  pause  to  consider  tliis  wonderful  state  of 
affairs ;  for  the  time  will  come  wlien  Englishmen  will 
quote  it  as  the  stock  example  of  the  stolid  stupidity  of 
their  ancestors  in  the  nineteenth  century.  The  most 
thoroughly  commercial  people,  the  greatest  voluntary 
wanderers  and  colonists  the  world  has  ever  seen,  are 
precisely  the  middle  classes  of  this  country.  If  there  be 
a  people  which  has  been  busy  making  history  on  the 
great  scale  for  the  last  three  hundred,  years — and  the 
most  profoundly  interesting  history — history  which,  if 
it  happened  to  be  that  of  Greece  or  Eome,  we  should 
study  with  avidity — it  is  the  English.  If  there  be  a 
people  which,  during  the  same  period,  has  developed  a 
remarkable  literature,  it  is  our  own.  If  there  be  a 
nation  whose  prosperity  depends  absolutely  and  wholly 
upon  their  mastery  over  the  forces  of  Nature,  upon  their 
intelligent  apprehension  of,  and  obedience  to,  the  laws 
of  the  creation  and  distribution  of  wealth,  and  of  the 
stable  equilibrium  of  the  forces  of  society,  it  is  pre- 
cisely this  nation.  And  yet  this  is  what  these  wonderful 
people  tell  their  sons  : — "  At  the  cost  of  from  one  to  two 
thousand  pounds  of  our  hard  earned  money,  we  devote 
twelve  of  the  most  precious  years  of  your  lives  to  school. 
There  you  shall  toil,  or  be  supposed  to  toil ;  but  there 
you  shall  not  learn  one  single  thing  of  all  those  you  will 
most  want  to  know,  directly  you  leave  school  and  enter 
upon  the  practical  business  of  life.  You  will  in  all 
probability  go  into  business,  but  you  shall  not  know 
where,  or  how,  any  article  of  commerce  is  produced,  or 
the  difference  between  an  export  or  an  im23ort,  or  the 
meaning  of  the  word  'capital.'  You  will  very  likely  settle 
in  a  colony,  but  you  shall  not  know  whether  Tasmania 
is  part  of  New  South  Wales,  or  vice  versa, 

«  Very  probably  you  may  become  a  manufacturer,  but 
you  shall  not  be  provided   with  the  means  of  under- 


42  LAY  SERMOm  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [in. 

standing  the  working  of  one  of  your  own  steam- engines^ 
or  the  nature  of  the  raw  products  you  employ ;  and, 
when  you  are  asked  to  buy  a  patent,  you  shall  not  have 
the  slightest  means  of  judging  whether  the  inventor  is 
an  impostor  who  is  contravening  the  elementary  prin- 
ciples of  science,  or  a  man  who  will  make  you  as  rich 
as  Croesus. 

^'  You  will  very  likely  get  into  the  House  of  Commons. 
You  will  hp.ve  to  take  your  share  in  making  laws  which 
may  prove  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  millions  of  men. 
But  you  shall  not  hear  one  word  respecting  the  political 
organization  of  your  country ;  the  meaning  of  the  con- 
troversy between  freetraders  and  protectionists  shall 
never  have  been  mentioned  to  you  ;  you  shall  not  so 
much  as  know  that  there  are  such  things  as  economical 
laws. 

"  The  mental  power  which  will  be  of  most  importance 
in  your  daily  life  will  be  the  power  of  seeing  things  as 
they  are  without  regard  to  authority ;  and  of  drawing- 
accurate  general  conclusions  from  particular  facts.  But 
at  school  and  at  college  you  shall  know  of  no  source  of 
truth  but  authority  ;  nor  exercise  your  reasoning  faculty 
upon  anything  but  deduction  from  that  whith  is  laid 
down  by  authority. 

"  You  will  have  to  weary  your  soul  with  work,  and 
many  a  time  eat  your  bread  in  sorrow  and  in  bitterness, 
and  you  shall  not  have  learned  to  take  refuge  in  the 
^reat  source  of  pleasure  without  alloy,  the  serene  resting- 
^lace  for  worn  human  nature, — the  world  of  art." 

Said  I  not  rightly  that  we  are  a  w^onderful  people  ? 
I  am  quite  prepared  to  allow,  that  education  entirely 
devoted  to  these  omitted  subjects  might  not  be  a  com- 
pletely liberal  education.  But  is  an  education  which 
ignores  them  all,  a  liberal  education  ?  Nay,  is  it  too 
much  to  say  that  the  education  which  should  embrace 


III.]  A  LIBmAl  EDUCATION.  43 

these  subjects  and  no  others,  would  be  a  real  educa- 
tion, tliougii  an  incomplete  one ;  while  an  education 
which  omits  them  is  really  not  an  education  at 
all,  but  a  more  or  less  useful  course  of  intellectual 
gymnastics  1 

For  what  does  the  middle- class  school  put  in  the  place 
of  all  these  things  which  are  left  out  1  It  substitutes 
what  is  usually  comprised  under  the  compendious  title 
of  the  "  classics '' — that  is  to  say,  the  languages,  the 
literature,  and  the  history  of  the  ancient  Q-reeks  and 
Romans,  and  the  geography  of  so  much  of  the  world 
as  was  known  to  these  two  great  nations  of  antiquity. 
Now,  do  not  expect  me  to  depreciate  the  earnest  and 
enlightened  pursuit  of  classical  learning.  I  have  not 
the  least  desire  to  speak  ill  of  such  occupations,  nor 
any  sympathy  with  those  who  run  them  down.  On 
the  contrary,  if  my  opportunities  had  lain  in  that  di- 
rection, there  is  no  investigation  into  which  I  could 
have  thrown  myself  with  greater  delight  than  that  of 
antiquity. 

What  science  can  present  greater  attractions  than 
philology  ?  How  can  a  lover  of  literary  excellence  fail 
to  rejoice  in  the  ancient  masterpieces  ?  And  with  what 
consistency  could  I,  whose  business  lies  so  much  in  the 
attempt  to  decipher  the  past,  and  to  build  up  intelligible 
forms  out  of  the  scattered  fragments  of  long-extinct 
beings,  fail  to  take  a  sympathetic,  though  an  unlearned, 
interest  in  the  labours  of  a  Niebuhr,  a  Gibbon,  or  a 
Grote?  Classical  history  is  a  great  section  of  the  pa- 
la3ontology  of  man  ;  and  I  have  the  same  double  respect 
for  it  as  for  other  kinds  of  palseontology — that  is  to  say, 
a  respect  for  the  facts  which  it  establishes  as  for  all 
facts^  and  d  still  greater  respect  for  it  as  a  preparation 
for  the  discovery  of  a  law  of  progress. 


44  l^Y  SEMIONS,  JDDJRESSFS,  AND  REVIEWS,  [iil 

But  if  tlie  classics  were  tauglit  as  they  miglit  be 
taught — if  boys  and  girls  were  instructed  in  Greek  and 
Latin,  not  merely  as  languages,  but  as  illustrations  of 
philological  science  ;  if  a  vivid  picture  of  life  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  two  thousand  years  ago, 
were  imprinted  on  the  minds  of  scholars ;  if  ancient 
history  were  taught,  not  as  a  weary  series  of  feuds  and 
fights,  but  traced  to  its  causes  in  such  men  placed  under 
such  conditions ;  if,  lastly,  the  study  of  the  classical 
books  were  followed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  impress  boys 
with  their  beauties,  and  with  the  grand  simplicity  of 
their  statement  of  the  everlasting  problems  of  human 
life,  instead  of  with  their  verbal  and  grammatical  pecu- 
liarities ;  I  still  think  it  as  little  proper  that  they  should 
form  the  basis  of  a  liberal  education  for  our  contempo- 
raries, as  I  should  think  it  fitting  to  make  that  sort  of 
palaeontology  with  which  1  am  familiar,  the  back-bone 
of  modern  education. 

It  is  wonderful  how  close  a  parallel  to  classical 
training  could  be  made  out  of  that  palaeontology  to  which 
I  refer.  In  the  first  place  I  could  get  up  an  osteological 
primer  so  arid,  so  pedantic  in  its  terminology,  so  alto- 
gether distasteful  to  the  youthful  mind,  as  to  beat  the 
recent  famous  production  of  the  head-masters  out  of 
the  field  in  all  these  excellences.  Next,  I  could  exercise 
my  boys  upon  easy  fossils,  and  bring  out  all  their 
powers  of  memory  and  all  their  ingenuity  in  the  applica- 
tion of  my  osteo-grammatical  rules  to  the  interpretation, 
or  construing,  of  those  fragments.  To  those  who  had 
reached  the  higher  classes,  I  might  supply  odd  bones 
to  be  built  up  into  animals,  giving  great  honour  and 
reward  to  him  who  succeeded  in  fabricating  monsters 
most  entirely  in  accordance  with  the  rules.  That 
would  answer  to  verse-making  and  essay- writing  in 
the  dead  languages. 


inj  A  LIBERAL  EDUCATIOlSr.  45 

To  be  sure,  if  a  gi-eat  comparative  anatomist  were 
to  look  at  these  fabrications  he  might  shake  his  head, 
or  langh.  But  what  then  1  Would  such  a  catastrophe 
destroy  the  parallel?  What  think  you  would  Cicero, 
or  Horace,  say  to  the  production  of  the  best  sixth 
form  going  ?  And  would  not  Terence  stop  his  ears 
and  run  out  if  he  could  be  present  at  an  English  per- 
formance of  his  own  plays?  Would  Hamlet,  in  the 
mouths  of  a  set  of  French  actors,  who  should  insist 
on  pronouncing  English  after  the  fashion  of  their  own 
tongue,  be  more  hideously  ridiculous  ? 

But  it  will  be  said  that  I  am  forgetting  the  beauty,  and 
the  human  interest,  which  appertain  to  classical  studies. 
To  this  I  reply  that  it  is  only  a  very  strong  man  who 
can  appreciate  the  charms  of  a  landscape,  as  he  is 
toiling  up  a  steep  hill,  along  a  bad  road.  What  with 
short-windedness,  stones,  ruts,  and  a  pervading  sense 
of  the  wisdom  of  rest  and  be  thankful,  most  of  us 
have  little  enough  sense  of  the  beautiful  under  these 
circumstances.  The  ordinary  schoolboy  is  precisely  in 
this  case.  He  finds  Parnassus  uncommonly  steep,  and 
there  is  no  chance  of  his  having-  much  time  or  inclination 
to  look  about  him  till  he  gets  to  the  top.  And  nine 
times  out  of  ten  he  does  not  get  to  the  top. 

But  if  this  be  a  fair  picture  of  the  results  of  classical 
teaching:  at  its  best — and  I  gather  from  those  who 
have  authority  to  speak  on  such  matters  that  it  is  so — 
what  is  to  be  said  of  classical  teaching  at  its  worst, 
or  in  other  words,  of  the  classics  of  our  ordinary  middle- 
class  schools?^  I  will  tell  you.  It  means  getting  up 
endless  forms  and  rules  by  heart.  It  means  turning 
Latin  and  Greek  into  English,  for  the  mere  sake  of 
being  able   to  do  it,  and    without  the  smallest  regard 

^  For  a  justification  of  what  is  here  said  about  these  schools,  see  tliat 
valuable  book,  "  Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education,"  passim. 


46  ^^^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJF3,  [iii. 

to  tlie  wortli,  or  wortlilessness,  of  the  autlior  read.  It 
means  tlie  learning  of  innumerable,  not  always  decent, 
fables  in  such  a  shape  that  the  meaning  they  once  had 
is  dried  up  into  utter  trash  ;  and  the  only  impression 
left  upon  a  boy's  mind  is,  that  the  people  who  believed 
such  things  must  have  been  the  greatest  idiots  the 
world  ever  saw.  And  it  means,  finally,  that  after  a 
dozen  years  spent  at  this  kind  of  work,  the  sufferer 
shall  be  incompetent  to  interpret  a  passage  in  an  author 
he  has  not  already  got  up ;  that  he  shall  loathe  the 
sight  of  a  G-reek  or  Latin  book:  and  that  he  shall 
never  open,  or  think  of,  a  classical  writer  again,  until, 
wonderful  to  relate,  he  insists  upon  submitting  his 
sons  to  the  same  process. 

These  be  your  gods,  0  Israel !  For  the  sake  of  this 
net  result  (and  respectability)  the  British  father  denies 
his  children  all  the  knowledge  they  might  turn  to 
account  in  life,  not  merely  for  the  achievement  of 
vulgar  success,  but  for  guidance  in  the  great  crises  of 
human  existence.  This  is  the  stone  he  offers  to  those 
whom  he  is  bound  by  the  strongest  and  tender  est  ties 
to  feed  with  bread. 

If  primary  and  secondary  education  are  in  this  un- 
satisfactory state,  what  is  to  be  said  to  the  universities  ? 
This  is  an  awful  subject,  and  one  I  almost  fear  to 
touch  with  my  unhallowed  hands ;  but  I  can  tell  you 
what  those  say  who  have  authority  to  speak. 

The  Eector  of  Lincoln  College,  in  his  lately  published, 
valuable  "  Suggestions  for  Academical  Organization  wdth 
especial  reference  to  Oxford,"  tells  us  (p.  127)  : — 

"The  colleges  were,  in  their  origin,  endowments, 
not  for  the  elem.ents  of  a  general  liberal  education, 
but  for  the  prolonged  study  of  special  and  professional 
faculties   by  men  of  riper  age.     The   universities    em- 


nij  A  LIBER  J L  EDUCATION,  47 

braced  botli  these  objects.  The  colleges,  while  they 
mcidentally  aided  in  elementary  education,  were  specially 
devoted  to  the  hiQ;hest  learnino: 

"  This  was  the  theory  of  the  middle-age  university  and 
the  design  of  collegiate  foundations  in  their  origin.  Time 
and  circumstances  have  brought  about  a  total  change. 
The  colleges  no  longer  promote  the  researches  of  science, 
or  direct  jDrofessional  study.  Here  and  there  college 
walls  may  shelter  an  occasional  student,  but  not  in 
larger  proportions  than  may  be  found  in  private  life. 
Elementary  teaching  of  youths  under  twenty  is  now 
the  only  function  performed  by  the  university,  and 
almost  the  only  object  of  college  endowments.  Colleges 
were  homes  for  the  life-study  of  the  highest  and  most 
abstruse  parts  of  knowledge.  They  have  become  boarding 
schools  in  which  the  elements  of  the  learned  languages 
are  taught  to  youths." 

If  Mr.  Pattison's  high  position,  and  his  obvious  love 
and  respect  for  his  university,  be  insufficient  to  convince 
the  outside  world  that  language  so  severe  is  yet  no 
more  than  just,  the  authority  of  the  Commissioners 
who  reported  on  the  University  of  Oxford  in  1850  is 
open  to  no  challenge.     Yet  they  write  : — 

"  It  is  generally  acknowledged  that  both  Oxford  and 
the  countiy  at  large  suffer  greatly  from  the  absence  of  a 
body  of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to  the  cultivation 
of  science,  and  to  the  direction  of  academical  education. 

"  The  fact  that  so  few  books  of  profound  research 
emanate  from  the  University  of  Oxford,  materially 
impairs  its  character  as  a  seat  of  learning,  and  con- 
sequently its  hold  on  the  respect  of  the  nation/' 

Cambridge  can  claim  no  exemption  from  the  reproaches 
addressed  to  Oxford.  And  thus  there  seems  no  escape 
from  the  admission  that  what  we  fondty  call  our  great 
seats   of  learning   are   simply  "  boarding   schools ''   for 


43  X^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [m. 

bigger  boys  ;  that  learned  men  are  not  more  numerous 
in  tliem  than  out  of  them ;  that  the  advancement  of 
knowledge  is  not  the  object  of  fellows  of  colleges; 
that,  in  the  philosophic  calm  and  meditative  stillness 
of  their  greenswarded  courts,  philosophy  does  not  thrive, 
and  meditation  bears  few  fruits. 

It  is  my  great  good  fortune  to  reckon  amongst  my 
friends  resident  members  of  both  universities,  who  are 
men  of  learning  and  research,  zealous  cultivators  of 
science,  keeping  before  their  minds  a  noble  ideal  of  a 
university,  and  doing  their  best  to  make  that  ideal  a 
reality ;  and,  to  me,  they  would  necessarily  typify  the 
universities,  did  not  the  authoritative  statements  I  have 
quoted  compel  me  to  believe  that  they  are  exceptional, 
and  not  representative  men.  Indeed,  upon  calm  con- 
sideration, several  circumstances  lead  me  to  think  that 
the  Eector  of  Lincoln  College  and  the  Commissioners 
cannot  be  far  wrong. 

I  believe  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  foreigner 
who  should  wish  to  become  acquainted  with  the  scientific, 
or  the  literary,  activity  of  modern  England,  would  simply 
lose  his  time  and  his  pains  if  he  visited  our  universities 
with  that  object. 

And,  as  for  works  of  profound  research  on  any  subject, 
and,  above  all,  in  that  classical  lore  for  which  the 
universities  profess  to  sacrifice  almost  everything  else, 
why,  a  third-rate,  poverty-stricken  German  university 
turns  out  more  produce  of  that  kind  in  one  year,  than 
our  vast  and  wealthy  foundations  elaborate  in  ten. 

Ask  the  man  who  is  investigating  any  question,  pro- 
foundly and  thoroughly — be  it  historical,  philosophical, 
philological,  physical,  literary,  or  theological ;  who  is 
trying  to  make  himself  master  of  any  abstract  subject 
(except,  perhaps,  political  economy  and  geology,  both 
of  which  are  intensely  Anglican  sciences)    whether  he 


ni.]  A  LIBERAL  EBUCATIOK  49 

is  not  compelled  to  read  half  a  dozen  times  as  many 
German,  as  Englisli,  books  ?  And  whether,  of  these 
English  books,  more  than  one  in  ten  is  the  work  of 
a  fellow  of  a  college,  or  a  professor  of  an  English 
university  ? 

Is  this  from  any  lack  of  power  in  the  English  as 
compared  with  the  German  mind?  The  countrymen 
of  Grote  and  of  Mill,  of  Faraday,  of  Eobert  Brown, 
of  Lyell,  and  of  Darwin,  to  go  no  further  back  than 
the  contemporaries  of  men  of  middle  age,  can  afford 
to  smile  at  such  a  suggestion.  England  can  show  now, 
as  she  has  been  able  to  show  in  every  generation  since 
civilization  spread  over  the  West,  individual  men  who 
hold  their  own  against  the  world,  and  keep  alive  the 
old  tradition  of  her  intellectual  eminence. 

But,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  these  men  are  what 
they  are  in  virtue  of  their  native  intellectual  force,  and 
of  a  strength  of  character  which  will  not  recognise  impedi- 
ments. They  are  not  trained  in  the  courts  of  the 
Temple  of  Science,  but  storm  the  walls  of  that  edifice  in 
all  sorts  of  irregular  ways,  and  with  much  loss  of  time 
and  power,  in  order  to  obtain  their  legitimate  positions. 

Our  universities  not  only  do  not  encourage  such  men ; 
do  not  offer  them  positions,  in  which  it  should  be  their 
highest  duty  to  do,  thoroughly,  that  which  they  are  most 
capable  of  doing  ;  but,  as  far  as  possible,  university  train- 
ing shuts  out  of  the  minds  of  those  among  them,  who 
are  subjected  to  it,  the  prospect  that  there  is  anything  in 
the  world  for  which  they  are  specially  fitted.  Imagine 
the  success  of  the  attempt  to  still  the  intellectual  hunger 
of  any  of  the  men  I  have  mentioned,  by  putting  before 
him,  as  the  object  of  existence,  the  successful  mimicry 
of  the  measure  of  a  Greek  song,  or  the  roll  of  Ciceronian 
prose !  Imagine  how  much  success  would  be  likely 
to  attend  the  attempt  to  persuade  such  men,  that  the 


50  lAT  SERMONS,  JLBRESSUS,  AND  REVIEWS.  [m. 

sducation  wliich  leads  to  perfection  in  sucli  elegancies 
is  alone  to  be  called  culture;  while  the  facts  of  history, 
the  process  of  thought,  the  conditions  of  moral  and 
social  existence,  and  the  laws  of  physical  nature,  are 
left  to  be  dealt  Avith  as  they  may,  by  outside  bar- 
barians ! 

It  is  not  thus  that  the  German  universities,  from 
being  beneath  notice  a  century  ago,  have  become  what 
they  are  now — the  most  intensely  cultivated  and  the 
most  productive  intellectual  corporations  the  world  has 
ever  seen. 

The  student  who  repairs  to  them  sees  in  the  list  of 
classes  and  of  professors  a  fair  picture  of  the  world 
■  of  knowledge.  Whatever  he  needs  to  know  there  is 
some  one  ready  to  teach  him,  some  one  competent  to 
discipline  him  in  the  way  of  learning  ;  whatever  his 
special  bent,  let  him  but  be  able  and  diligent,  and  in 
due  time  he  shall  find  distinction  and  a  career.  Among 
his  professors,  he  sees  men  whose  names  are  known 
and  revered  throughout  the  civilized  world ;  and  their 
living  example  infects  him  with  a  noble  ambition,  and  a 
love  for  the  spirit  of  work. 

The  Germans  dominate  the  intellectual  world  by 
virtue  of  the  same  simple  secret  as  that  which  made 
Napoleon  the  master  of  old  Europe.  They  have  declared 
la  carriere  ouverte  aux  talents,  and  every  Bursch 
marches  with  a  professor's  gown  in  his  knapsack.  Let 
him  become  a  great  scholar,  or  man  of  science,  and 
ministers  will  compete  for  his  services.  In  Germany, 
they  do  not  leave  the  chance  of  his  holding  the  office 
he  would  render  illustrious  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a 
hot  canvass,  and  the  final  wisdom  of  a  mob  of  country 
parsons. 

In  short,  in  Germany,  the  universities  are  exactly  what 
the  Rector  of  Lincoln  and  the  Commissioners  tell  us  the 


!iT.]  A  WBT.MAL  EDUCATION,  51 

Englisli  universities  are  not ;  tliat  is  to  say,  corporations 
"of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to  the  cultivation 
of  science,  and  the  direction  of  academical  education." 
They  are  not  "  boarding  schools  for  youths,"  nor  clerical 
seminaries ;  but  institutions  for  the  higher  culture  of 
men,  in  which  the  theological  faculty  is  of  no  more 
importance,  or  prominence,  than  the  rest ;  and  which 
are  truly  "universities,"  since  they  strive  to  represent 
and  embody  the  totality  of  human  knowledge,  and 
to  find  room  for  all  forms  of  intellectual  activity. 

May  zealous  and  clear-headed  reformers  like  Mr. 
Pattison  succeed  in  their  noble  endeavours  to  shape 
our  universities  towards  some  such  ideal  as  this,  without 
losing  what  is  valuable  and  distinctive  in  their  social 
tone  !  But  until  they  have  succeeded,  a  liberal  education 
will  be  no  more  obtainable  in  our  Oxford  and  Cambridge 
Universities  than  in  our  public  schools. 

If  I  am  justified  in  my  conception  of  the  ideal  of  a 
liberal  education ;  and  if  what  I  have  said  about  the 
existing  educational  institutions  of  the  country  is  also 
true,  it  is  clear  that  the  two  have  no  sort  of  relation 
to  one  another ;  that  the  best  of  our  schools  and  the 
most  complete  of  our  university  trainings  give  but 
a  narrow,  one-sided,  and  essentially  illiberal  education — 
while  the  worst  give  what  is  really  next  to  no  education 
at  all.  The  South  London  Working-Men's  College 
could  not  copy  any  of  these  institutions  if  it  would. 
I  am  bold  enough  to  express  the  conviction  that  it 
oup^it  not  if  it  could. 

For  wdiat  is  wanted  is  the  reality  and  not  the  mere 
name  of  a  liberal  education ;  and  this  College  must 
steadily  set  before  itself  the  ambition  to  be  able  to 
give  that  education  sooner  or  later.  At  present  we 
are   but   beginning,    sharpening   our   educational   tools. 


52  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [tu. 

as  it  were,  and,  except  a  modicum  of  physical  science, 
we  are  not  able  to  offer  much  more  than  is  to  be  found 
in  an  ordinary  school. 

Moral  and  social  science — one  of  the  greatest  and 
most  fruitful  of  our  future  classes,  I  hope — at  present 
lacks  only  one  thing  in  our  programme,  and  that  is  a 
teacher.  A  considerable  want,  no  doubt ;  but  it  must 
be  recollected  that  it  is  much  better  to  want  a  teacher 
than  to  want  the  desire  to  learn. 

Further,  we  need  what,  for  want  of  a  better  name, 
I  must  call  Physical  Geography.  What  I  mean  is  that 
which  the  Germans  call  ''  ErdkundeJ'  It  is  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  earth,  of  its  place  and  relation  to  other 
bodies  ;  of  its  general  structure,  and  of  its  great  features 
— winds,  tides,  mountains,  plains ;  of  the  chief  forms 
of  the  vegetable  and  animal  worlds,  of  the  varieties 
of  man.  It  is  the  peg  upon  which  the  greatest  quantity 
of  useful  and  entertaining  scientific  information  can  be 
suspended. 

Literature  is  not  upon  the  College  programme;  but 
I  hope  some  day  to  see  it  there.  For  literature  is 
the  greatest  of  all  sources  of  refined  pleasure,  and  one 
of  the  great  uses  of  a  liberal  education  is  to  enable 
us  to  enjoy  that  pleasure.  There  is  scope  enough  for 
the  purposes  of  liberal  education  in  the  study  of  the 
rich  treasures  of  our  own  language  alone.  All  that 
is  needed  is  direction,  and  the  cultivation  of  a  refined 
taste  by  attention  to  sound  criticism.  But  there  is 
no  reason  why  French  and  German  should  not  be 
mastered  sufiiciently  to  read  what  is  worth  reading 
in  those  languages,  with  pleasure  and  with  profit. 

And  finally,  by -and -by,  we  must  have  History ; 
treated  not  as  a  succession  of  battles  and  dynasties ; 
not  as  a  series  of  biographies ;  not  as  evidence  that 
Providence  has  always  been  on  the  side  of  either  Whigs 


•!\    III,]  J  LIBERAL  EDUCATION.  53 

or  Tories ;   but  as  the   development  of  man  in  times 
past,  and  in  other  conditions  than  our  own. 

But,  as  it  is  one  of  the  principles  of  our  College  to 
be  self-supporting,  the  public  must  lead,  and  we  must 
follow,  in  these  matters.  If  my  hearers  take  to  heart 
what  I  have  said  about  liberal  education,  they  will 
desire  these  things,  and  I  doubt  not  we  shall  be  able 
to  supply  them.  But  we  must  wait  till  the  demand 
is  made. 


BCIENTIFIG  EDUCATION:  NOTES  OF  AN 
AFTER-DINNEK  SPEECH. 

[Mr.  Thackeray,  talking  of  after-dinner  speeclies,  has  lamented  that 
"  one  never  can  recollect  tlie  fine  things  one  thought  of  in  tlio 
cab,"  in  going  to  the  place  of  entertainment.  I  am  not  aware  that 
there  are  any  "  fine  things "  in  the  following  pages,  but  such  as 
there  are  stand  to  a  speech  which  really  did  get  itself  spoken,  at 
the  hospitable  table  of  the  Liverpool  Philomathic  Society,  more  or 
less  in  the  position  of  what  "  one  thought  of  in  the  cab."] 

The  introduction  of  scientific  training  into  tlie  general 
education  of  tlie  country  is  a  topic  upon  which  I 
could  not  have  spoken,  without  some  more  or  less 
apologetic  introduction,  a  few  years  ago.  But  upon 
this,  as  upon  other  matters,  public  opinion  has  of  late 
undergone  a  rapid  modification.  Committees  of  both 
Houses  of  the  Legislature  have  agreed  that  something 
must  be  done  in  this  direction,  and  have  even  thrown 
out  timid  and  faltering  suggestions  as  to  what  should 
be  done ;  while  at  the  opposite  pole  of  society,  com- 
mittees of  working-men  have  expressed  their  conviction 
that  scientific  training  is  the  one  thing  needful  for 
their  advancement,  whether  as  men,  or  as  workmen. 
Only  the  other  day,  it  was  my  duty  to  take  part  in 
the  reception  of  a  deputation  of  London  working  men, 
who  desired  to  learn  from  Sir  Eoderick  Murchison,  the 
Director   of  the  Eoyal   School  of   Mines,  whether  the 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  HDUCATIOK,  55 

organization  of  the  Institution  in  Jermyn  Street  could 
be  made  available  for  tlie  supply  of  tliat  scientific 
instruction,  tlie  need  of  wliicfi  could  not  have  been 
apprebended,  or  stated,  more  clearly  tlian  it  was  by 
them. 

The  heads  of  colleges  in  our  great  Universities  (who 
have  not  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  mobile  of 
persons)  have,  in  several  cases,  thought  it  well  that, 
out  of  the  great  number  of  honours  and  rewards  at 
their  disposal,  a  few  should  hereafter  be  given  to  the 
cultivators  of  the  physical  sciences.  Nay,  I  hear  that 
some  colleges  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  appoint  one, 
or,  may  be,  two  special  tutors  for  the  purpose  of  putting 
the  facts  and  principles  of  physical  science  before  the 
undergraduate  mind.  And  I  say  it  with  gratitude 
and  great  respect  for  those  eminent  persons,  that  the 
head  masters  of  our  public  schools,  Eton,  Harrow, 
Winchester,  have  addressed  themselves  to  the  problem 
of  introducing  instruction  in  physical  science  among 
the  studies  of  those  great  educational  bodies,  w^ith 
much  honesty  of  purpose  and  enlightenment  of  under- 
standing ;  and  I  live  in  hope  that,  before  long,  impor- 
tant changes  in  this  direction  will  be  carried  into  effect 
in  those  strongholds  of  ancient  prescription.  In  f^ict, 
such  changes  have  already  been  made,  and  ]3^^ysical 
science,  even  now,  constitutes  a  recognised  element  of 
the  school  curriculum  in  Harrow  and  Eugby,  wdiilst 
I  understand  that  ample  preparations  for  such  studies 
are  beino;  made  at  Eton  and  elsewhere. 

Looking  at  these  facts,  I  might  perhaps  spare  myself 
the  trouble  of  giving  any  reasons  for  the  introduction 
of  physical  science  into  elementary  education ;  yet  I 
cannot  but  think  that  it  may  be  well,  if  I  place  before 
you  some  considcTations  which,  perhaps,  have  bardlj 
received  full  attention. 


56  lAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [iv. 

At  otlier  times,  and  in  other  places,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  state  the  higher  and  more  abstract  arguments,  by 
Vvdiich  the  study  of  physical  science  may  be  shown 
to  be  indispensable  to  the  complete  training  of  the 
human  mind ;  but  I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  supposed 
that,  because  I  happen  to  be  devoted  to  more  or  less 
abstract  and  "  unpracticaF^  pursuits,  I  am  insensible 
to  the  weio'lit  which  ous^ht  to  be  attached  to  that  which 
has  been  said  to  be  the  English  conception  of  Paradise 
— "  namely,  getting  on."  I  look  upon  it,  that  "  getting 
on"  is  a  very  important  matter  indeed.  I  do  not 
mean  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  coarse  and  tangible 
results  of  success,  but  because  humanity  is  so  con- 
stituted that  a  vast  number  of  us  would  never  be 
impelled  to  those  stretches  of  exertion  which  make 
us  wiser  and  more  capable  men,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
absolute  necessity  of  putting  on  our  faculties  all  the 
strain  they  will  bear,  for  the  purpose  of  "getting  on" 
in  the  most  practical  sense. 

Now  the  value  of  a  knowledge  of  physical  scieiice 
as  a  means  of  getting  on,  is  indubitable.  There  are 
hardly  any  of  our  trades,  except  the  merely  huckstering 
ones,  in  which  some  knowledge  of  science  may  not 
be  directly  profitable  to  the  pursuer  of  that  occupation. 
As  industry  attains  higher  stages  of  its  development, 
as  its  processes  become  more  complicated  and  refined, 
and  competition  more  keen,  the  sciences  are  dragged 
in,  one  by  one,  to  take  their  share  in  the  fray  ;  and 
he  who  can  best  avail  himself  of  their  help  is  the  man 
who  will  come  out  uppermost  in  that  struggle  for  exist- 
ence, which  goes  on  as  fiercely  beneath  the  smooth 
surface  of  modern  society,  as  among  the  wild  inhabit- 
ants of  the  woods. 

But,  in  addition  to  the  bearing  of  science  on  ordinary 
practical  life,  let  me  direct  your  attention  to  its  immense 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATION.  57 

influence  on  several  of  the  professions.  I  ask  any  one 
who  has  adopted  the  calling  of  an  engineer,  how  much 
time  he  lost  when  he  left  school,  because  he  had  to 
devote  himself  to  pursuits  which  were  absolutely  novel 
and  strange,  and  of  which  he  had  not  obtained  the 
remotest  conception  from  his  instructors  ?  He  had 
to  familiarize  himself  with  ideas  of  the  course  and 
powers  of  Nature,  to  which  his  attention  had  never 
been  directed  during  his  school-life,  and  to  learn,  for 
the  first  time,  that  a  world  of  facts  lies  outside  and 
beyond  the  world  of  words.  I  appeal  to  those  who 
know  what  Engineering  is,  to  say  how  far  I  am  right 
in  respect  to  that  profession  ;  but  with  regard  to 
another,  of  no  less  importance,  I  shall  venture  to 
speak  of  my  own  knowledge.  There  is  no  one  of 
us  who  may  not  at  any  moment  be  thrown,  bound 
hand  and  foot  by  physical  incapacity,  into  the  hands 
of  a  medical  practitioner.  The  chances  of  life  and 
death  for  all  and  each  of  us  may,  at  any  moment, 
depend  on  the  skill  with  which  that  practitioner  is 
able  to  make  out  what  is  wrong  in  our  bodily  frames, 
and  on  his  ability  to  apply  the  proper  remedy  to  the 
defect. 

The  necessities  of  modern  life  are  such,  and  the 
class  from  which  the  medical  profession  is  chiefly 
recruited  is  so  situated,  that  few  medical  men  can  hope 
to  spend  more  than  three  or  four,  or  it  may  be  five, 
years  in  the  pursuit  of  those  studies  which  are  imme- 
diately germane  to  physic.  How  is  that  all  too  brief 
period  spent  at  present  ?  I  speak  as  an  old  examiner, 
having  served  some  eleven  or  twelve  years  in  that 
capacity  in  the  University  of  London,  and  therefore 
having  a  practical  acquaintance  with  the  subject ; 
but  I  might  fortify  myself  by  the  authority  of  the 
President  of  the  College  of  Surgeons,  Mr.  Qiiain,  whom 


58  LJT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  B.WIEWS.  [iv. 

I  heard  the  other  day  in  an  admirable  address  (the 
Hunterian  Oration)  deal  fully  and  wisely  with  this  very 
topic. -^ 

A  young  man  commencing  the  study  of  medicine  is 
at  once  required  to  endeavour  to  make  an  acquaintance 
with  a  number  of  sciences,  such  as  Physics,  as  Chemistry, 
as  Botany,  as  Physiology,  which  are  absolutely  and  entirely 
strange  to  him,  however  excellent  his  so-called  education 
at  school  may  have  been.  Not  only  is  he  devoid  of  all 
apprehension  of  scientific  conceptions,  not  only  does  he 
fail  to  attach  any  meaning  to  the  words  "matter,'* 
"force,"  or  "law''  in  their  scientific  senses,  but,  worse 
still,  he  has  no  notion  of  v/hat  it  is  to  come  into  contact 
with  nature,  or  to  lay  his  mind  alongside  of  a  physical 
fact,  and  try  to  conquer  it,  in  the  way  our  great  naval 
hero  told  his  captains  to  master  their  enemies.  His 
whole  mind  has  been  given  to  books,  and  I  am  hardly 
exaggerating  if  I  say  that  they  are  more  real  to  him 
than  Nature .  He  imag-ines  that  all  knowledo^e  can  be 
got  out  of  books,  and  rests  upon  the  authority  of  some 

^  LIr.  Qiiain's  words  {Midi^il  Times  and  Gazette,  February  20)  are  : — "A 
few  words  as  to  our  special  Medical  course  of  instruction  and  the  influence 
upon  it  of  such  changes  in  the  elementary  schools  as  I  have  mentioned.  The 
student  now  enters  at  once  upon  several  sciences — physics,  chemistry,  anatomy, 
physiology,  botany,  pharmacy,  therapeutics  —  all  these,  the  fa^ts  and  the 
language  and  the  laws  of  each,  to  be  mastered  in  eighteen  months.  Up  to 
the  beginning  of  the  Medical  course  many  have  learned  little.  We  cannot 
claim  anything  better  than  the  Examiner  of  the  University  of  London  and 
the  Cambridge  Lecturer  have  reported  for  their  Universities.  Supposing  that 
at  school  young  people  had  acquired  some  exact  elementary  knowledge  in 
physics,  chemistry,  and  a  branch  of  natural  history — say  botany — with  the 
physiology  connected  with  it,  they  would  then  have  gaiiied  necessary  know- 
ledge, with  some  practice  in  inductive  reasoning.  The  whole  studies  are 
processes  of  observation  and  induction — the  best  discipline  of  the  mind  for 
tlic  purposes  of  life — for  our  purposes  not  less  than  any.  *  By  such  study 
(says  Dr.  Whewell)  of  one  or  more  departments  of  inductive  science  the 
mind  may  escape  from  the  thraldom  of  mere  words.'  By  that  plan  the 
burden  of  the  early  Medical  course  would  be  much  lightened,  and  more  time 
devoted  to  practical  studies,  including  Sir  Thomas  Watsun's  'final  and  supreme 
stage '  of  the  knowledge  of  Medicine.'* 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATIOK  59 

master  or  other ;  nor  does  lie  entertain  any  misgiving 
that  the  method  of  learning  which  led  to  proficiency 
in  the  rules  of  grammar,  will  suffice  to  lead  him  to  a 
mastery  of  the  laws  of  Nature.  The  youngster,  thus 
unprepared  for  serious  study,  is  turned  loose  among 
his  medical  studies,  with  the  result,  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  that  the  first  year  of  his  curriculum  is  spent 
in  learning  how  to  learn.  Indeed,  he  is  lucky,  if  at 
the  end  of  the  first  year,  by  the  exertions  of  his  teachers 
and  his  own  industry,  he  has  acquired  even  that  art  of 
arts.  After  which  there  remain  not  more  than  three, 
or  perhaps  four,  years  for  the  profitable  study  of  such 
vast  sciences  as  Anatomy,  Physiology,  Therapeutics, 
Medicine,  Surgery,  Obstetrics,  and  the  like,  upon  his 
knowledge  or  ignorance  of  which  it  depends  whether 
the  practitioner  shall  diminish,  or  increase,  the  bills  of 
mortality.  Now  what  is  it  but  the  preposterous  con- 
dition of  ordinary  school  education  which  prevents  a 
young  man  of  seventeen,  destined  for  the  practice  of 
medicine,  from  being  fully  prepared  for  the  study  of 
nature;  and  from  coming  to  the  medical  school,  equipped 
with  that  preliminary  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
Physics,  of  Chemistry,  and  of  Biology,  upon  which  he 
has  now  to  waste  one  of  the  precious  years,  every 
moment  of  which  ought  to  be  given  to  those  studies 
which  bear  directly  upon  the  knowledge  of  his 
profession  ? 

There  is  another  profession,  to  the  members  of  which, 
I  think,  a  certain  preliminary  knowledge  of  physical 
science  might  be  quite  as  valuable  as  to  the  medical 
man.  The  practitioner  of  medicine  sets  before  himself 
the  noble  object  of  taking  care  of  man's  bodily  welfare ; 
but  the  members  of  this  other  profession  undertake  to 
"minister  to  minds  diseased,'*  and,  so  far  as  may  be, 
to  diminish  sin  and  soften  sorrow.     Like  the  medical 


60  lAr  SERMONS,  ADLEESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [iv. 

profession,  the  clerical,  of  whidi  I  now  speak,  rests  its 
power  to  heal  upon  its  knowledge  of  the  order  of  the 
universe — upon  certain  theories  of  mans  relation  to 
that  which  lies  outside  him.  It  is  not  my  business  to 
express  any  opinion  about  these  theories.  I  merely 
wish  to  point  out  that,  like  all  other  theories,  they  are 
professedly  based  upon  matter  of  fact.  Thus  the  clerical 
profession  has  to  deal  with  the  facts  of  Nature  from  a 
certain  point  of  view ;  and  hence  it  comes  into  contact 
mth  that  of  the  man  of  science,  who  has  to  treat  the 
same  facts  from  another  point  of  view.  You  know  how 
often  that  contact  is  to  be  described  as  collision,  or 
^dolent  friction ;  and  how  great  the  heat,  how  little 
the  light,  which  commonly  results  from  it. 

In  the  interests  of  fair  play,  to  say  nothing  of  those 
of  mankind,  I  ask,  Why  do  not  the  clergy  as  a  body 
acquire,  as  a  part  of  their  preliminary  education,  some 
such  tincture  of  physical  science  as  wiU  put  them  in 
a  position  to  understand  the  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  accepting  their  theories,  which  are  forced  upon  the 
mind  of  every  thoughtful  and  intelligent  man,  who  has 
taken  the  trouble  to  instruct  himself  in  the  elements 
of  natural  knowledge  ? 

Some  time  ago  I  attended  a  large  meeting  of  the 
clergy,  for  the  purpose  of  delivering  an  address  which 
I  had  been  invited  to  give.  I  spoke  of  some  of  the 
most  elementary  facts  in  physical  science,  and  of  the 
manner  in  which  they  directly  contradict  certain  of  the 
ordinary  teachings  of  the  clergy.  The  result  was,  that, 
after  I  had  finished,  one  section  of  the  assembled  eccle- 
siastics attacked  me  with  all  the  intemperance  of  pious 
zeal,  for  stating  facts  and  conclusions  wliich  no  com- 
petent judge  doubts ;  while,  after  the  first  speakers  had 
subsided,  amidst  the  cheers  of  the  great  majority  of  their 
colleagues,  the  more  rational  minority  rose  to  tell  me 


IV. j  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATION,  61 

that  I  had  taken  wholly  superfluous  pains,  that  they 
abeady  knew  all  about  what  I  had  told  them,  and 
perfectly  agreed  with  me.  A  hard-headed  friend  ol 
mine,  who  was  present,  put  the  not  unnatural  question, 
"  Then  why  don^t  you  say  so  in  your  pulpits  ? ''  to 
^\'hich  inquiry  I  heard  no  reply. 

In  fact  the  clergy  are  at  present  divisible  into  three 
sections :  an  immense  body  who  are  ignorant  and  speak 
out ;  a  small  proportion  who  know  and  are  silent ; 
and  a  minute  minority  who  know  and  speak  according 
to  their  knowledge.  By  the  clergy,  I  mean  especially 
the  Protestant  clergy.  Our  great  antagonist — I  speak 
as  a  man  of  science — the  Eoman  Catholic  Church,  the 
one  great  spiritual  organization  which  is  able  to  resist, 
and  must,  as  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  resist,  the 
progress  of  science  and  modern  civilization,  manages 
her  affairs  much  better. 

It  was  my  fortune  some  time  ago  to  pay  a  visit  to 
one  of  the  most  important  of  the  institutions  in  which 
the  clergy  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church  in  these  islands 
are  trained ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  difference 
between  these  men  and  the  comfortable  champions  of 
Anglicanism  aud  of  Dissent,  was  comparable  to  the 
differeuce  between  .  our  gallant  Volunteers  and  the 
trained  veterans  of  Napoleon's  Old  Guard. 

The  Catholic  priest  is  trained  to  know  his  business, 
and  do  it  effectually.  The  professors  of  the  college  in 
question,  learned,  zealous,  and  determined  men,  per- 
mitted me  to  speak  frankly  with  them.  We  talked  like 
outposts  of  opposed  armies  during  a  truce — as  friendly 
enemies ;  and  when  I  ventured  to  point  out  the  diffi- 
culties their  students  would  have  to  encounter  from 
scientific  thought,  they  replied  :  "  Our  Church  has  lasted 
many  ages,  and  has  passed  safely  through  many  storms. 
The  present  is  but  a  new  gust  of  the  old  tempest,  and 
4 


62  Ur  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWB.  [it. 

v^e  c!o  not  turn  out  our  young  men  less  fitted  to  weather 
it,  than  they  have  been,  in  former  times,  to  cope  with 
the  difficulties  of  those  times.  The  heresies  of  the  day 
are  explained  to  them  by  their  professors  of  philosophy 
and  science,  and  they  are  taught  how  those  heresies  are 
to  be  met/' 

I  heartily  respect  an  organization  which  faces  its 
enemies  in  this  way ;  and  I  wish  that  all  ecclesiastical 
organizations  were  in  as  effective  a  condition.  I  think 
it  would  be  better,  not  only  for  them,  but  for  us.  The 
army  of  liberal  thought  is,  at  present,  in  very  loose 
order;  and  many  a  spirited  free-thinker  makes  use  of 
his  freedom  mainly  to  vent  nonsense.  We  should  be 
the  better  for  a  vigorous  and  watchful  enemy  to  hammer 
us  into  cohesion  and  discipline ;  and  I,  for  one,  lament 
that  the  bench  of  BishojDS  cannot  show  a  man  of 
the  calibre  of  Butler  of  the  "Analogy,"  who,  if  he 
were  alive,  would  make  short  work  of  much  of  the 
current  a  jpriori  '^  infidelity." 

I  hope  you  will  consider  that  the  arguments  I  have 
now  stated,  even  if  there  were  no  better  ones,  con- 
stitute a  sufficient  apology  for  urging  the  introduction 
of  science  into  schools.  The  next  question  to  which 
I  have  to  address  myself  is,  What  sciences  ought  to  be 
thus  taught  'i  And  this  is  one  of  the  most  important  of 
questions,  because  my  side  (I  am  afraid  I  am  a  terribly 
candid  friend)  sometimes  spoils  its  cause  by  going  in 
for  too  much.  There  are  other  forms  of  culture  beside 
physical  science  ;  and  I  should  be  profoundly  sorry  to 
see  the  fact  forgotten,  or  even  to  observe  a  tendency  to 
starve,  or  cripple,  literary,  or  aesthetic,  culture  for  the  sake 
of  science.  Such  a  narrow  view  of  the  nature  of  educa- 
tion has  nothing  to  do  with  my  firm  conviction  that 
a  complete  and  thorough  scientific  culture  ought  to  be 


mj  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATION,  63 

introduced  into  all  schools.  By  this,  however,  I  do  not 
mean  that  every  schoolboy  should  be  taught  everything 
in  science.  That  would  be  a  very  absurd  thing  to  con- 
ceive, and  a  very  mischievous  thing  to  attempt.  What 
I  mean  is,  that  no  boy  nor  girl  should  leave  school 
without  possessing  a  grasp  of  the  general  character  of 
science,  and  without  having  been  disciplined,  more  or 
less,  in  the  methods  of  all  sciences ;  so  that,  when 
turned  into  the  world  to  n:iake  their  own  way,  they 
shall  be  prepared  to  face  scientific  problems,  not  by 
knowing  at  once  the  conditions  of  every  problem,  or 
by  being  able  at  once  to  solve  it ;  but  by  being  familiar 
with  the  general  current  of  scientific  thought,  and  by 
being  able  to  apply  the  methods  of  science  in  the 
proper  way,  when  they  have  acquainted  themselves  with 
the  conditions  of  the  special  problem. 

That  is  what  I  understand  by  scientific  education. 
To  furnish  a  boy  with  such  an  education,  it  is  by  no 
means  necessary  that  he  should  devote  his  whole  school 
existence  to  physical  science :  in  fact,  no  one  would 
lament  so  one-sided  a  proceeding  more  than  I.  Nay 
more,  it  is  not  necessary  for  him  to  give  up  more  than  a 
moderate  share  of  his  time  to  suck  studies,  if  they  be 
properly  selected  and  arranged,  and  if  he  be  trained  in 
them  in  a  fitting  manner. 

I  conceive  the  proper  course  to  be  somewhat  as 
follows.  To  begin  with,  let  every  child  be  instructed  in 
those  general  views  of  the  phenomena  of  Nature  for  ^' 
which  we  have  no  exact  English  name.  The  nearest 
approximation  to  a  name  for  what  I  mean,  which  we 
possess,  is  "  physical  geography."  The  Germans  have  a 
better,  "  Erdkunde,''  ("earth  knowledge"  or  "geology'' 
m  its  etymological  sense,)  that  is  to  say,  a  general  know- 
ledge of  the  earth,  and  what  is  on  it,  in  it,  and  about  it. 
If  any  one  who  has  had  experience  of  the  ways  of  young 


64  I  AT  SJSRMONS,  ABJDRESSES,  AND  RWIEIVS,  [rv. 

children  will  call  to  mind  tlieir  questions,  lie  will  find 
tliat  so  far  as  they  can  be  put  into  any  scientific  category, 
they  come  under  this  head  of  "  Erclkunde/'  The  child 
asks,  *'  What  is  the  moon,  and  why  does  it  shine  % " 
"  What  is  this  water,  and  where  does  it  run  ?  "  "  What 
is  the  wind  ? "  "  What  makes  the  waves  in  the  sea  ?  " 
"  Where  does  this  animal  live,  and  what  is  the  use  of 
that  plant  ? "  And  if  not  snubbed  and  stunted  by  being 
told  not  to  ask  foolish  questions,  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
intellectual  craving  of  a  young  child ;  nor  any  bounds  to 
the  slow,  but  solid,  accretion  of  knowledge  and  develop- 
ment of  the  thinking  faculty  in  this  way.  To  all  such 
questions,  answers  which  are  necessarily  incomplete, 
though  true  as  far  as  they  go,  may  be  given  by  any 
teacher  v^hose  ideas  represent  real  knowledge  and  not 
mere  book  learning ;  and  a  panoramic  view  of  Nature, 
accompanied  by  a  strong  infusion  of  the  scientific  habit 
of  mind,  may  thus  be  placed  within  the  reach  of  every 
child  of  nine  or  ten. 

After  this  preliminary  opening  of  the  eyes  to  the 
great  spectacle  of  the  daily  progress  of  Nature,  as  the 
reasoning  faculties  of  the  child  grow,  and  he  becomes 
gL>  familiar  with  the  use  of  the  tools  of  knowledge — reading, 
writing,  and  elementary  mathematics — he  should  pass 
on  to  what  is,  in  the  more  strict  sense,  physical  science. 
Now  there  are  two  kinds  of  physical  science  :  the  one 
regards  form  and  the  relation  of  forms  to  one  another ; 
the  other  deals  with  causes  and  efiects.  In  many  of 
what  we  term  our  sciences,  these  two  kinds  are  mixed 
up  together;  but  systematic  botany  is  a  pure  example 
of  the  former  kind,  and  physics  of  the  latter  kind,  of 
science.  Every  educational  advantage  which  training 
in  physical  science  can  give  is  obtainable  from  the  proper 
study  of  these  two ;  and  I  should  be  contented,  for  the 
present,  if  they,  added  to  our  **  Erdkunde/^  furnished 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATION,  65 

fclie  whole  of  tlie  scientific  curriculum  of  schools.  Indeed, 
I  conceive  it  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  boons  which 
could  be  conferred  upon  England,  if  henceforward  every 
child  in  the  country  were  instructed  in  the  general 
knowledo;e  of  the  thing's  about  it,  in  the  elements 
of  physics,  and  of  botany.  But  I  should  be  still 
better  pleased  if  there  could  be  added  somewhat  of 
chemistry,  and  an  elementary  acquaintance  with  human 
physiology. 

So  far  as  school  education  is  concerned,  I  want  to  go 
no  farther  just  now ;  and  I  believe  that  such  instruction 
would  make  an  excellent  introduction  to  that  preparatory 
scientific  training  which,  as  I  have  indicated,  is  so  essen- 
tial for  the  successful  pursuit  of  our  most  important  pro- 
fessions. But  this  modicum  of  instruction  must  be  so 
given  as  to  ensure  real  knowledge  and  practical  discipline. 
If  scientific  education  is  to  be  dealt  with  as  mere  book- 
work,  it  will  be  better  not  to  attempt  it,  but  to  stick  to 
the  Latin  Grammar,  v/hich  makes  no  pretence  to  be  any- 
thing but  bookwork. 

If  the  great  benefits  of  scientific  training  are  sought, 
it  is  essential  that  such  training  should  be  real :  that  is 
to  say,  that  the  mind  of  the  scholar  should  be  brought 
into  direct  relation  with  fact,  that  he  should  not  merely 
be  told  a  thing,  but  made  to  see  by  the  use  of  his  own 
intellect  and  ability  that  the  thing  is  so  and  no  otherwise. 
The  great  peculiarity  of  scientific  training,  that  in  virtue 
of  which  it  cannot  be  replaced  by  any  other  discipline 
whatsoever,  is  this  bringing  of  the  mind  directly  into 
contact  with  fact,  and  practising  the  intellect  in  the 
completest  form  of  induction  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  drawing 
conclusions  from  particular  facts  made  known  by  imme- 
diate observation  of  Nature. 

The  other  studies  which  enter  into  ordinary  education 
do  not  discipline  the  mind  in  this  way.     Mathematical 


66  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  fiv. 

training  is  almost  purely  declnctiYe.  Tlie  matliematician 
starts  with  a  few  simple  propositions,  the  proof  of  which 
is  so  obvious  that  they  are  called  self-evident,  and  the 
rest  of  his  work  consists  of  subtle  deductions  from  them. 
The  teaching  of  languages,  at  any  rate  as  ordinarily 
practised,  is  of  the  same  general  nature, — authority  and 
tradition  furnish  the  data,  and  the  mental  operations  of 
the  scholar  are  deductive. 

Again :  if  history  be  the  subject  of  study,  the  facts 
are  still  taken  upon  the  evidence  of  tradition  and  au- 
thority. You  cannot  make  a  boy  see  the  battle  of 
Thermopylae  for  himself,  or  know,  of  his  own  know- 
ledge, that  Cromwell  once  ruled  England.  There  is  no 
getting  into  direct  contact  with  natural  fact  by  this 
road ;  there  is  no  dispensing  with  authority,  but  rather  a 
resting  upon  it. 

In  all  these  respects,  science  differs  from  other  edu- 
cational discipline,  and  prepares  the  scholar  for  common 
life.  What  have  we  to  do  in  every-day  life  ?  Most  of 
the  business  w^hich  demands  our  attention  is  matter  of 
fact,  which  needs,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  accurately 
observed  or  apprehended ;  in  the  second,  to  be  inter- 
preted by  inductive  and  deductive  reasonings,  which  are 
altogether  similar  in  their  nature  to  those  employed  in 
science.  In  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  whatever  is 
taken  for  granted  is  so  taken  at  one's  own  peril ;  fact 
and  reason  are  the  ultimate  arbiters,  and  patience  and 
honesty  are  the  great  helpers  out  of  difficulty. 

But  if  scientific  training  is  to  yield  its  most  eminent 
results,  it  must,  I  repeat,  be  made  practical.  That  is  to 
say,  in  explaining  to  a  child  the  general  phaenomena  of 
Nature,  you  must,  as  far  as  possible,  give  reality  to  your 
teaching  by  object-lessons ;  in  teaching  him  botany,  he 
must  handle  the  plants  and  dissect  the  flowers  for  him- 
self;  in  teaching  him  physics  and  chemistry,  you  must 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  EDUCATION.  67 

not  be  solicitous  to  fill  liim  witli  information,  but  you 
must  be  careful  that  what  he  learns  he  knows  of  his  own 
knowledge.  Don't  be  satisfied  with  telling  him  .that  a 
mao'net  attracts  iron.  Let  him  see  that  it  does  ;  let  him 
feel  the  pull  of  the  one  upon  the  other  for  himself.  And, 
especially,  tell  him  that  it  is  his  duty  to  doubt  until  he 
is  compelled,  by  the  absolute  authority  of  Nature,  to 
believe  that  which  is  written  in  books.  Pursue  this 
discipline  carefully  and  conscientiously,  and  you  may 
make  sure  that,  however  scanty  may  be  the  measure  of 
information  which  you  have  poured  into  the  boy's  mind, 
you  have  created  an  intellectua.1  habit  of  priceless  value 
in  practical  life. 

One  is  constantly  asked,  When  should  this  scientific 
education  be  commenced  ?  I  should  say  with  the  dawn 
of  intelligence.  As  I  have  already  said,  a  child  seeks 
for  information  about  matters  of  physical  science  as 
soon  as  it  begins  to  talk.  The  first  teaching  it  wants 
is  an  object-lesson  of  one  sort  or  another ;  and  as  soon 
as  it  is  fit  for  systematic  instruction  of  any  kind,  it  is  fit 
for  a  modicum  of  science. 

People  talk  of  the  difficulty  of  teaching  young 
children  such  matters,  and  in  the  same  breath  insist 
upon  their  learning  their  Catechism,  which  contains 
propositions  far  harder  to  comprehend  than  anything 
in  the  educational  course  I  have  proposed.  Again:  I 
am  incessantly  told  that  we,  wdio  advocate  the  intro- 
duction of  science  into  schools,  make  no  allowance  for 
the  stupidity  of  the  average  boy  or  girl;  but,  in  my 
belief,  that  stupidity,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  ^^Jit,  non 
nascitur,"  and  is  developed  by  a  long  process  of  parental 
and  pedagogic  repression  of  the  natural  intellectual  ap- 
petites, accompanied  by  a  persistent  attempt  to  create 
artificial  ones  for  food  which  is  not  only  tasteless,  but 
essentially  indigestible. 


68  LAY  SEmWNS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [iv. 

Tliose  who  urge  the  difBculty  of  instructing  young 
people  in  science  are  apt  to  forget  another  very  im- 
portant, condition  of  success — important  in  all  kinds  of 
teaching,  but  most  essential,  I  am  disposed  to  think, 
when  the  scholars  are  very  young.  This  condition  is, 
that  the  teacher  should  himself  really  and  practically 
know  his  subject.  If  he  does,  he  will  be  able  to  speak 
of  it  in  the  easy  language,  and  with  the  completeness 
of  conviction,  with  which  he  talks  of  any  ordinary 
every-day  matter.  If  he  does  not,  he  will  be  afraid  to 
wander  beyond  the  limits  of  the  technical  phraseology 
which  he  has  got  up ;  and  a  dead  dogmatism,  which 
oppresses,  or  raises  opposition,  will  take  the  place  of 
the  lively  confidence,  born  of  personal  conviction,  which 
cheers  and  encourages  the  eminently  sympathetic  mind 
of  childhood. 

I  have  already  hinted  that  such  scientific  training  as 
we  seek  for  may  be  given  v/ithout  making  any  extra- 
vagant claim  upon  the  time  now  devoted  to  education. 
We  ask  only  for  *'  a  most  favoured  nation  "  clause  in  our 
treaty  with  the  schoolmaster ;  we  demand  no  more  than 
that  science  shall  have  as  much  time  given  to  it  as  any 
other  single  subject — say  four  hours  a  week  in  each  class 
of  an  ordinary  school. 

For  the  present,  I  think  men  of  science  would  be  well 
content  with  such  an  arrangement  as  this  ;  but  speaking 
for  myself,  I  do  not  pretend  to  believe  that  such  an 
arrangement  can  be,  or  will  be,  permanent.  In  these 
times  the  educational  tree  seems  to  me  to  have  its  roots 
in  the  air,  its  leaves  and  flowers  in  the  ground ;  and,  I 
confess,  I  should  very  much  like  to  turn  it  upside  down, 
BO  that  its  roots  might  be  solidly  embedded  among  the 
facts  of  Nature,  and  draw  thence  a  sound  nutriment 
for  the  foliaofe  and  fruit  of  literature  and  of  art.  No 
educational   system   can  have  a   claim  to  permanence, 


IV.]  SCIENTIFIC  I^DUCATION,  69 

unless  it  reco2;nizGs  tlie  trutli  that  education  has  two 
great  ends  to  wliicli  eveiytliing  else  must  be  subordinated. 
The  one  of  these  is  to  increase  knowledge ;  the  other  is 
to  develop  the  love  of  right  and  the  hatred  of  wrong. 

AYith  wisdom  and  uprightness  a  nation  can  make  its 
way  worthily,  and  beauty  will  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
the  two,  even  if  she  be  not  specially  invited  ;  while  there 
is  perhaps  no  sight  in  the  whole  world  more  saddening 
and  revolting  than  is  offered  by  men  sunk  in  ignorance 
of  everything  but  what  other  men  have  written ;  seem- 
ingly devoid  of  moral  belief  or  guidance ;  but  with  the 
sense  of  beauty  so  keen,  and.  the  power  of  expression  so 
cultivated,  that  their  sensual  caterwauling  may  be  almost 
mistaken  for  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

At  present,  education  is  almost  entirely  devoted  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  povv^er  of  expression,  and  of  the  sense  of 
literary  beauty.  The  matter  of  having  anything  to  say, 
beyond  a  hash  of  other  people's  opinions,  or  of  possess- 
ing any  criterion  of  beauty,  so  that  w^e  may  distinguish 
between  the  Godlike  and  the  devilish,  is  left  aside  as  of 
no  moment.  I  think  I  do  not  err  in  saying  that  if 
science  were  made  the  foundation  of  education,  instead 
of  being,  at  most,  stuck  on  as  cornice  to  the  edifice,  this 
state  of  things  could  not  exist. 

In  advocating  the  introduction  of  physical  science 
as  a  leading  element  in 'education,  I  by  no  means  refer 
only  to  the  higher  schools.  On  the  contrary,  I  believe 
that  such  a  change  is  even  more  imperatively  called,  for 
in  those  primary  schools,  in  which  the  children  of  the 
poor  are  expected  to  turn  to  the  best  account  the  little 
time  they  can  devote  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
A  great  step  in  this  direction  has  already  been  made 
by  the  establishment  of  science-classes  under  the  De- 
partment of  Science  and.  Art, — a  measure  which  came 
into  existence  unnoticed,  but  which  will,  I  believe,  turn 


70  ^^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REHEWS,  [iv 

out  to  be  of  more  importance  to  the  welfare  of  the 
people,  than  many  political  changes,  over  which  the 
noise  of  battle  has  rent  the  air. 

Under  the  regulations  to  which  I  refer,  a  schoolmaster 
can  set  up  a  class  in  one  or  more  branches  of  science ; 
his  pupils  will  be  examined,  and  the  State  will  pay  him, 
at  a  certain  rate,  for  all  who  succeed  in  passing.  1 
have  acted  as  an  examiner  under  this  system  from  the 
beginning  of  its  establishment,  and  this  year  I  expect 
to  have  not  fewer  than  a  couple  of  thousand  sets  of 
answers  to  questions  in  Physiology,  mainly  from  young 
people  of  the  artisan  class,  who  have  been  taught  in 
the  schools  which  are  now  scattered  all  over  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland.  Some  of  my  colleagues,  who  have 
to  deal  with  subjects  such  as  Geometry,  for  which  the 
present  teaching  power  is  better  organized,  I  under- 
stand are  likely  to  have  three  or  four  times  as  many 
papers.  So  far  as  my  own  subjects  are  concerned,  1  can 
undertake  to  say  that  a  great  deal  of  the  teaching,  the 
results  of  which  are  before  me  in  these  examinations,  is 
very  sound  and  good ;  and  I  think  it  is  in  the  power  of 
the  examiners,  not  only  to  keep  up  the  present  standard, 
but  to  cause  an  almost  unlimited  improvement.  Now 
what  does  this  mean  1  It  means  that  by  holding  out 
a  very  moderate  inducement,  the  masters  of  primary 
schools  in  many  parts  of  the  country  have  been  led  to 
convert  them  into  little  foci  of  scientific  instruction  ;  and 
that  they  and  their  pupils  have  contrived  to  find,  or  to 
make,  time  enough  to  carry  out  this  object  with  a  very 
considerable  degree  of  efficiency.  That  efficiency  will, 
I  doubt  not,  be  very  much  increased  as  the  system 
becomes  known  and  perfected,  even  with  the  very 
limited  leisure  left  to  masters  and  teachers  on  week- 
days. And  this  leads  me  to  ask.  Why  should  scientific 
teaching  be  limited  to  week-days? 


lY.]  SCIENTIFIC  ED  V CATION.  7 1 

Ecclesiastically-minded  persons  are  in  tlie  habit  of 
calling  things  they  do  not  like  by  very  hard  names,  and 
I  should  not  wonder  if  they  brand  the  proposition  I 
am  about  to  make  as  blasphemous,  and  worse.  But, 
not  minding  this,  I  venture  to  ask.  Would  there  really  be 
anything  wrong  in  using  part  of  Sunday  for  the  purpose 
of  instructing  those  who  have  no  other  leisure,  in  a 
knowledge  of  the  phsenomena  of  ^Nature,  and  of  man's 
relation  to  Nature  ? 

I  should  like  to  see  a  scientific  Sunday-school  in  every 
parish,  not  for  the  purpose  of  superseding  any  existing 
means  of  teaching  the  people  the  things  that  are  for 
their  good,  but  side  by  side  with  them.  I  cannot  but 
think  that  there  is  room  for  all  of  us  to  work  in  helping 
to  bridge  over  the  great  abyss  of  ignorance  which  lies 
at  our  feet. 

And  if  any  of  the  ecclesiastical  persons  to  whom  I 
have  referred,  object  that  they  find  it  derogatory  to  the 
honour  of  the  God  whom  they  worship,  to  awaken  the 
minds  of  the  young  to  the  infinite  wonder  and  majesty 
of  the  works  which  they  proclaim  His,  and  to  teach 
them  those  laws  which  must  needs  be  His  laws,  and 
therefore  of  all  things  needful  for  man  to  know — I  can 
only  recommend  them  to  be  let  blood  and  put  on  low 
diet.  There  must  be  something  very  wrong  going  on 
in  the  instrument  of  logic,  if  it  turns  out  such  conclu- 
sions from  such  premises. 


ON  TflE  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  THE 
NATUEAL   HISTOEY  SCIENCES. 

The  subject  to  whicli  I  liave  to  beg  your  attention 
during  the  ensuing  hour  is  "  The  Eelation  of  Physio- 
logical Science  to  other  branches  of  Knowledge/' 

Had  circumstances  permitted  of  the  delivery,  in 
their  strict  logical  order,  of  that  series  of  discourses 
of  which  the  present  lecture  is  a  member,  I  should 
have  preceded  my  friend  and  colleague  Mr.  Henfrey, 
who  addressed  you  on  Monday  last;  but  while,  for 
the  sake  of  that  order,  I  must  beg  you  to  suj)pose  that 
this  discussion  of  the  Educational  bearings  of  Biology 
in  general  does  precede  that  of  Special  Zoology  and 
Botany,  I  am  rejoiced  to  be  able  to  take  advantage  of 
the  light  thus  already  thrown  upon  the  tendency  and 
methods  of  Physiological  Science. 

Eegarding  Physiological  Science,  then,  in  its  widest 
sense — as  the  equivalent  of  Biology — the  Science  of 
Individual  Life — we  have  to  consider  in  succession : 

1.  Its  position  and  scope  as  a  branch  of  knowledge, 

2.  Its  value  as  a  means  of  mental  discipline. 

3.  Its  worth  as  practical  information. 
And  lastly, 

4.  At  what  period  it  may  best  be  made  a  branch  of 
Education. 


r.]    EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.    73 

Our  conclusions  on  the  first  of  these  heads  must 
depend,  of  course,  upon  the  nature  of  the  subject- 
matter  of  Biology;  and  I  think  a  few  preliminary 
considerations  will  place  before  you  in  a  clear  light 
the  vast  difference  which  exists  between  the  living 
bodies  with  which  Physiological  science  is  concerned,  and 
the  remainder  of  the  universe  ; — between  the  phsenomena 
of  Number  and  Space,  of  Physical  and  of  Chemical  force, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  those  of  Life  on  the  other. 

The  mathematician,  the  physicist,  and  the  chemist 
contemplate  things  in  a  condition  of  rest ;  they  look 
upon  a  state  of  equilibrium  as  that  to  which  all  bodies 
normally  tend. 

The  mathematician  does  not  suppose  that  a  quantity 
will  alter,  or  that  a  given  point  in  space  will  change 
its  direction  with  regard  to  another  point,  sponta- 
neously. And  it  is  the  same  with  the  physicist.  When 
Newton  saw  the  apple  fall,  he  concluded  at  once  that 
the  act  of  faUing  was  not  \hQ  result  of  any  power 
inherent  in  the  apple,  but  that  it  was  the  result  of  the 
action  of  something  else  on  the  apple.  In  a  similar 
manner,  all  physical  force  is  regarded  as  the  disturbance 
of  an  equilibrium  to  which  things  tended  before  its 
exertion,- — to  which  they  v/ill  tend  again  after  its 
cessation. 

The  chemist  equally  regards  chemical  change  in  a 
body,  as  the  effect  of  the  action  of  something  external 
to  the  body  changed.  A  chemical  compound  once  formed 
would  persist  for  ever,  if  no  alteration  .took  place  in 
surrounding  conditions. 

But  to  the  student  of  Life  the  aspect  of  Nature  is 
reversed.  Here,  incessant,  and,  so  far  as  we  know, 
spontaneous  change  is  the  rule,  rest  the  exception — 
the  anomaly  to  be  accounted  for.  Living  things  have 
no  inertia,  and  tend  to  no  equilibrium. 


74  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [v. 

Permit  me,  however,  to  give  more  force  and  clearness 
to  these  somewhat  abstract  considerations,  by  an  iUiistra- 
tion  or  two. 

Imagine  a  vessel  full  of  water,  at  the  ordinary  tem- 
perature, in  an  atmosphere  saturated  with  vapour.  The 
quantity  and  the  figure  of  that  water  will  not  change, 
so  far  as  we  know,  for  ever. 

Suppose  a  knnp  of  gold  be  thrown  into  the  vessel — 
motion  and  disturbance  of  figure  exactly  proportional 
to  the  momentum  of  the  gold  will  take  place.  But  after 
a  time  the  effects  of  this  disturbance  will  subside — • 
equilibrium  will  be  restored,  and  the  water  will  return 
to  its  passive  state. 

Expose  the  water  to  cold — it  will  solidify — and  in  so 
doing  its  particles  will  arrange  themselves  in  definite 
crystalline  shapes.  But  once  formed,  these  crystals 
change  no  further. 

Again,  substitute  for  the  lump  of  gold  some  substance 
capable  of  entering  into  chemical  relations  with  the 
water: — -say,  a  mass  of  that  substance  which  is  called 
"protein" — the  substance  of  flesh  :— a  very  considerable 
disturbance  of  equilibrium  will  take  place— all  sorts  of 
chemical  compositions  and  decompositions  will  occur ; 
but  in  the  end,  as  before,  the  result  will  be  the  resump- 
tion 01  a  condition  of  rest. 

Instead  of  such  a  mass  of  dead  protein,  however, 
take  a  particle  of  living  protein — one  of  those  minute 
microscopic  living  things  which  throng  our  pools,  and 
are  known  as  Infusoria — such  a  creature,  for  instance,  as 
an  Euglena,  and  place  it  in  our  vessel  of  water.  It  is  a 
round  mass  provided  with  a  long  filament,  and  except 
in  this  peculiarity  of  shape,  presents  no  appreciable 
physical  or  chemical  diff'erence  whereby  it  might  be 
distinguished  from  the  particle  of  dead  protein. 

But   the    difi'erence   in    the   phaenomena  to  which   it 


f.]    EDUCATIONAL  FALUE  OE  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.     75 

will  give  rise  is  immense :  in  tlie  first  place  it  will 
develop  a  vast  quantity  of  physical  force — cleaving 
the  water  in  all  directions  with  considerable  rapidity 
by  means  of  the  vibrations  of  the  long  filament  or 
cilium. 

Nor  is  the  amount  of  chemical  energy  which  the  little 
creature  possesses  less  striking.  It  is  a  perfect  laboratory 
in  itself,  and  it  will  act  and  react  u^pon  the  water  and 
the  matters  contained  therein  ;  converting  them  into  new 
compounds  resembling  its  own  substance,  and  at  the 
same  time  giving  up  portions  of  its  own  substance  which 
have  become  effete. 

Furthermore,  the  Euglena  will  increase  in  size ;  but 
this  increase  is  by  no  means  unlimited,  as  the  increase 
of  a  crystal  might  be.  After  it  has  grown  to  a  certain 
extent  it  divides,  and  each  portion  assumes  the  form  of 
the  original,  and  proceeds  to  repeat  the  process  of  growth 
and  division. 

Nor  is  this  all.  For  after  a  series  of  such  divisions 
and  subdivisions,  these  minute  points  assume  a  totally 
new  form,  lose  their  long  tails — round  themselves,  and 
secrete  a  sort  of  envelope  or  box,  in  which  they  remain 
shut  up  for  a  time,  eventually  to  resume,  directly  or 
indirectly,  their  primitive  mode  of  existence. 

Now,  so  far  as  we  know,  there  is  no  natural  limit  to 
the  existence  of  the  Euglena,  or  of  any  other  living  germ. 
A  living  sjDecies  once  launched  into  existence  tends  to 
live  for  ever. 

Consider  how^  widely  different  this  living  particle  is 
from  the  dead  atoms  with  which  the  physicist  and 
chemist  have  to  do! 

The  particle  of  gold  falls  to  the  bottom  and  rests — 
the  particle  of  dead  protein  decomposes  and  disappears — 
it  also  rests  :  but  the  living  protein  mass  neither  tends 
to  exhaustion   of  its  forces  nor  to  any  permanency  of 


TQ  LAY  SERMONS  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [v 

form,  but  is  essentially  distinguislied  as  a  distnrlDer 
of  equilibrium  so  far  as  force  is  concerned, — as  under- 
going continual  metamorpliosis  and  change,  in  point  of 
form. 

Tendency  to  equilibrium  of  force  and  to  permanency 
of  form,  then,  are  the  characters  of  that  portion  of  the 
universe  which  does  not  live — the  domain  of  the  chemist 
and  physicist. 

Tendency  to  disturb  existing  equilibrium — to  take  on 
forms  which  succeed  one  another  in  definite  cycles — is 
the  character  of  the  living  world. 

What  is  the  cause  of  this  wonderful  difference  between 
the  dead  particle  and  the  living  particle  of  matter 
appearing  in  other  respects  identical  %  that  difference 
to  which  we  give  the  name  of  Life  % 

I,  for  one,  cannot  tell  yoa.  It  may  be  that,  by  and 
by,  philosophers  will  discover  some  higher  laws  of  which 
the  facts  of  life  are  particular  cases— very  possibly  they 
will  find  out  some  bond  between  physico-chemical 
phaenomena  on  the  one  hand,  and  vital  phsenomena 
on  the  other.  At  present,  however,  we  assuredly  know 
of  none;  and  I  think  we  shall  exercise  a  wise  humility 
in  confessing  that,  for  us  at  least,  this  successive  assump- 
tion of  different  states — (external  conditions  remaining 
the  same) — this  spontaneity  of  action — if  I  may  use 
a  term  which  implies  more  than  I  would  be  answerable 
for — which  constitutes  so  vast  and  plain  a  practical 
distinction  between  living  bodies  and  those  which  do 
not  live,  is  an  ultimate  fact  ;  indicating  as  such,  the 
existence  of  a  broad  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
subject-matter  of  Biological  and  that  of  all  other  sciences. 

For  I  would  have  it  understood  that  this  simple 
Euglena  is  the  type  of  all  living  things,  so  far  as  the 
distinction  between  these  and  inert  matter  is  concerned. 
That  cycle  of  changes,  which  is  constituted  by  perhaps 


r. J    EB  UCATIONAL  FAL  UE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.    7  7 

not  more  than  two  or  tliree  steps  in  the  Englena,  is 
as  clearly  manifested  in  the  multitnclinons  stages  through 
which  the  germ  of  an  oak  or  of  a  man  passes.  What- 
ever forms  the  Living  Being  may  take  on,  whether 
simple  or  complex,  production,  groivth,  reioroduction, 
are  the  phsenomena  which  distinguish  it  from  that 
which  does  not  live. 

If  this  be  true,  it  is  clear  that  the  student,  in  passing 
from  the  physico-chemical  to  the  physiological  sciences, 
enters  upon  a  totally  new  order  of  facts  ;  and  it  will 
next  be  for  us  to  consider  how  far  these  new  facts 
involve  neio  methods,  or  reauire  a  modification  of  those 

'  A. 

with  which  he  is  already  acquainted.  Now  a  great 
deal  is  said  about  the  peculiarity  of  the  scientific  method 
in  general,  and  of  the  different  methods  which  are 
pursued  in  the  different  sciences.  The  Mathematics 
are  said  to  have  one  special  method;  Physics  another, 
Biology  a  third,  and  so  forth.  For  my  own  part,  I 
must  confess  that  I  do  not  understand  this  phraseology. 

So  far  as  I  can  arrive  at  any  clear  comprehension 
of  the  matter,  Science  is  not,  as  many  would  seem  to 
suppose,  a  modification  of  the  black  art,  suited  to  the 
tastes  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  flourishing  mainly 
in  consequence  of  the  decay  of  the  Inquisition. 

Science  is,  I  believe,  nothing  but  trained  and  orga- 
nized common  sense,  differing  from  the  latter  only  as 
a  veteran  may  differ  from  a  raw  recruit :  and  its  methods 
differ  from  those  of  common  sense  only  so  far  as  the 
guardsman's  cut  and  thrust  differ  from  the  manner 
in  which  a  savage  wields  his  club.  The  primary  power 
is  the  same  in  each  case,  and  perhaps  the  untutored 
savage  has  the  more  brawny  arm  of  the  two.  The 
real  advantage  lies  in  the  point  and  polish  of  the 
swordsman's  weapon ;  in  the  trained  eye  quick  to  spy 
out  the  weakness  of  the  adversary  ;   in  the  ready  hand 


/ 

78  L^-^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [v 

prompt  to  follow  it  on  tlie  instant.  But,  after  all,  tlie 
sword  exercise  is  only  tlie  liewing  and  poking  of  tlie 
clubman  developed  and  perfected. 

So,  the  vast  results  obtained  by  Science  are  won 
by  no  mystical  faculties,  by  no  mental  processes,  other 
than  those  which  are  practised  by  every  one  of  us, 
in  the  humblest  and  meanest  affairs  of  life.  A  detective 
policeman  discovers  a  burglar  from  the  marks  made 
by  his  shoe,  by  a  mental  process  identical  with  that 
by  which  Cuvier  restored  the  extinct  animals  of  Mont- 
martre  from  fragments  of  their  bones.  Nor  does  that 
process  of  induction  and  deduction  by  which  a  lady, 
finding  a  stain  of  a  peculiar  kind  upon  her  dress,  con- 
cludes that  somebody  has  upset  the  inkstand  thereon, 
differ  in  any  way,  in  kind,  from  that  by  which  Adams 
and  Leverrier  discovered  a  new  planet. 

The  man  of  science,  in  fact,  simply  uses  with  scru- 
pulous exactness,  the  methods  which  we  all,  habitually 
and  at  every  moment,  use  carelessly ;  and  the  man 
of  business  must  as  much  avail  himself  of  the  scientific 
method — must  be  as  truly  a  man  of  science — as  the 
veriest  bookworm  of  us  all ;  though  I  have  no  doubt 
that  the  man  of  business  will  find  himself  out  to  be  a 
philosopher  with  as  much  surprise  as  M.  Jourdain 
exhibited,  when  he  discovered  that  he  had  been  all 
his  life  talking  prose.  If,  however,  there  be  no  real 
difference  between  the  methods  of  science  and  those 
of  common  life,  it  would  seem,  on  the  face  of  the 
matter,  highly  improbable  that  there  should  be  any 
difference  between  the  methods  of  the  different  sciences  ; 
nevertheless,  it  is  constantly  taken  for  granted,  that 
there  is  a  very  wide  difference  between  the  Physiological 
and  other  sciences  in  point  of  method. 

In  the  first  place  it  is  said — and  I  take  this  point 
first,  because  the  imputation  is  too  frequently  admitted 


f.]    EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.    79 

by  Pliysiologists  themselves — that  Biology  differs  from 
the  Physico-chemical  and  Mathematical  sciences  in 
being  "inexact." 

Now,  this  phrase  "  inexact "  must  refer  either  to  the 
methods  or  to  the  results  of  Plivsiolog:ical  science. 

It  cannot  be  correct  to  apply  it  to  the  methods ;  for, 
as  I  hope  to  show  you  by  and  by,  these  are  iden- 
tical in  all  sciences,  and  whatever  is  trne  of  Physiological 
method  is  true  of  Physical  and  Mathematical  method- 
Is  it  then  the  results  of  Biological  science  which  are 
** inexact''?  I  think  not.  If  I  say  that  respiration  is 
performed  by  the  lungs  ;  that  digestion  is  effected  in  the 
stomach ;  that  the  eye  is  the  organ  of  sight ;  that  the 
jaws  of  a  vertebrated  animal  never  open  sideways,  but 
always  up  and  down ;  while  those  of  an  annulose  animal 
always  open  sideways,  and  never  up  and  down — I  am 
enumerating  propositions  which  are  as  exact  as  anything 
in  Euclid.  How  then  has  this  notion  of  the  inexactness 
of  Biolooical  science  come  about?  I  believe  from  two 
causes  :  first,  because,  in  consequence  of  the  great  com- 
plexity of  the  science  and  the  multitude  of  interfering 
conditions,  we  are  very  often  only  enabled  to  predict 
approximately  what  will  occur  under  given  circum- 
stances ;  and  secondly,  because,  on  account  of  the  com- 
parative youth  of  the  Physiological  sciences,  a  great 
many  of  their  laws  are  still  imperfectly  worked  out. 
But,  in  an  educational  point  of  view,  it  is  most  important 
to  distinguish  between  the  essence  of  a  science  and 
the  accidents  which  surround  it ;  and  essentially,  the 
methods  and  results  of  Physiology  are  as  exact  as  those 
of  Physics  or  Mathematics. 

It  is  said  that  the  Physiological  method  is  especially 
comi^arative  ^ ;  and  this  dictum  also  finds  favour  in  the 

^  "  In  tlie  tliird  place,  we  liare  to  review  the  metliod  of  Comparison,  wMch 
is  so  specially  adapted  to  the  study  of  living  bodies,  and  by  which,  above  aU 


80  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [v 

eyes  of  many.  I  sliould  be  sorry  to  suggest  thcit  the 
speculators  on  scientific  classification  have  been  misled 
by  the  accident  of  the  name  of  one  leading  branch  of 
Biology — Coraparative  Anatomy  ;  but  I  Avould  ask 
v/hether  comioarison,  and  that  classification  which  is  the 
result  of  comparison,  are  not  the  essence  of  every  science 
whatsoever  ?  How  is  it  possible  to  discover  a  relation  of 
cause  and  efi'ect  of  a7iy  kiud  without  comparing  a  series 
of  cases  together  in  which  the  supposed  cause  and  efiect 
occur  singly,  or  combined  ?  So  far  from  comparison 
being  in  any  way  peculiar  to  Biological  science,  it  is, 
I  think,  the  essence  of  every  science. 

A  speculative  philosopher  again  tells  us  that  the 
Biological  sciences  are  distinguished  by  beiug  sciences 
of  observation  and  not  of  experiment !  ^ 

Of  all  the  strange  assertions  into  which  speculation 
without  practical  acquaintance  with  a  subject  may  lead 
even  an  able  man,  I  think  this  is  the  very  strangest. 
Physiology  not   an  experimental   science  I     Why,  there 

others,  that  study  must  be  advanced.  In  Astronomy,  this  method  is  neces- 
sarily inapplicable  ;  and  it  is  not  till  we  arrive  at  Chemistry  that  this  third 
means  of  investigation  can  be  used,  and  then  only  in  subordination  to  the 
two  others.  It  is  in  the  study,  both  statical  and  dynamical,  of  living  bodies 
that  it  first  acqunes  its  full  development  ;  and  its  use  elsewhere  can  be  only 
through  its  application  here." — Comte's  Positive  Fhilosojyhy,  translated  by 
Miss  Martineau.     Vol.  i.  p.  372. 

By  what  method  does  M.  Comte  suppose  that  the  equality  or  inequality  of 
forces  and  quantities  and  the  dissimilarity  or  similarity  of  forms — points  oi 
some  slight  importance  not  only  in  Astronomy  and  Physics,  but  even  in 
Mathematics — are  ascertained,  if  not  by  Comparison  ? 

"  Proceeding  to  the  second  class  of  means, — Enperiment  cannot  but  be 
less  and  less  decisive,  in  proportion  to  the  complexity  of  the  pha^nomena  to  be 
explored  ;  and  therefore  we  saw  this  resource  to  be  less  effectual  in  chemistry 
than  in  physics  :  and  we  now  find  that  it  is  eminently  useful  in  chemistry  in 
comparison  with  j^hysiology.  In  fact,  the  nature  of  the  joha^nomena  sums  to 
offer  almost  insurmountable  impediments  to  any  extensive  and  ])rolific  aiJ^lino- 
lion  of  such  a  ^jrocedure  in  biology.''' — Comte,  vol.  i.  p.  367. 

M.  Comte,  as  his  manner  is,  contradicts  himself  two  pages  further  on,  but 
that  will  hardly  relieve  him  from  the  responsil/dity  of  such  a  paragraph  a» 
the  above. 


y 

2 


7.]    EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  UISTORT  SCIENCES.    8 1 

is  not  a  function  of  a  single  organ  in  the  body  wliicli  lias 
not  been  determined  wholly  and  solely  by  experiment. 
How  did  Harvey  determine  the  nature  of  the  circulation, 
except  by  experiment  1  How  did  Sir  Charles  Bell  de- 
termine the  functions  of  the  roots  of  the  spinal  nerves, 
save  by  experiment  ?  How  do  w^e  know  the  use  of  a 
nerve  at  all,  except  by  experiment  ?  Nay,  how  do  you 
know  even  that  your  eye  is  your  seeing  apparatus,  unless 
you  make  the  experiment  of  shutting  it ;  or  that  your 
ear  is  your  hearing  apparatus,  unless  you  close  it  up  and 
thereby  discover  that  you  become  deaf  ? 

It  would  really  be  much  more  true  to  say  that  Phy- 
siology is  the  experimental  science  par  excellence  of  all 
sciences ;  that  in  which  there  is  least  to  be  learnt  by 
mere  observation,  and  that  which  affords  the  greatest 
field  for  the  exercise  of  those  faculties  which  characterise 
the  experimental  philosopher.  I  confess,  if  any  one 
were  to  ask  me  for  a  model  application  of  the  logic  of 
experiment,  I  should  know  no  better  work  to  put  into 
his  hands  than  Bernard's  late  Eesearches  on  the  Func- 
tions of  the  Liven  ^ 

Not  to  give  this  lecture  a  too  controversial  tone,  how- 
ever, I  must  only  advert  to  one  more  doctrine,  held  by  a 
thinker  of  our  own  age  and  country,  whose  opinions  are 
worthy  of  all  respect.  It  is,  that  the  Biological  sciences 
differ  from  all  others,  inasmuch  as  in  them  classification 
takes  place  by  type  and  not  by  definition.^ 

^  "Nonvelle  Fonction  du  Foie  considere  Gorume  organe  prodncteur  de 
matiere  sucree  chez  rHomme  et  les  Animaux,"  par  M,  Claude  Bernard. 

2  '^  Natural  Ch^oups  given  hy  Tyioe,  not  by  Definition The  class  is 

steadily  fixed,  though  not  precisely  limited ;  it  is  given,  though  not  circum- 
scribed ;  it  is  determined,  not  by  a  boundary-line  without,  but  by  a  central 
[)oint  within ;  not  by  what  it  strictly  excludes,  but  what  it  eminently  includes ; 
by  an  example,  not  by  a  precept ;  in  short,  instead  of  DefiniUon  we  have  a 
Type  for  our  director.  A  type  is  an  example  of  any  class,  for  instance,  & 
species  of  a  genus,  which  is  considered  as  emxinently  possessing  the  characters 
of  the  class.     All  the  species  which  have  a  greater  affinity  with  this  type- 


N 


8  2  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEn  'S.  [v. 

It  is  said,  in  short,  that  a  natural-historv  class  is  not 
capable  of  being  defined — that  the  class  Eosace^,  for 
instance,  or  the  class  of  Fishes,  is  not  accurately  and 
absolutely  definable,  inasmuch  as  its  members  will  pre- 
sent exceptions  to  every  possible  definition ;  and  that 
the  members  of  the  class  are  united  together  only  by 
the  circumstance  that  they  are  all  more  like  some 
imaginary  average  rose  or  average  fish,  than  they 
resemble  anything  else. 

But  here,  as  before,  I  think  the  distinction  has  arisen 
entirely  from  confusing  a  transitory  imperfection  with 
an  essential  character.  So  long  as  our  information  con- 
cerning them  is  imperfect,  we  class  all  objects  together 
according  to  resemblances  which  we  feel,  but  cannot 
define ;  we  group  them  round  types,  in  short.  Thus, 
if  you  ask  an  ordinary  person  what  kinds  of  animals 
there  are,  he  will  probably  say,  beasts,  birds,  reptiles, 
fishes,  insects,  &c.  Ask  him  to  define  a  beast  from  a 
reptile,  and  he  cannot  do  it ;  but  he  says,  things  like 
a  cow  or  a  horse  are  beasts,  and  things  like  a  frog  or  a 
lizard  are  reptiles.  You  see  he  does  class  by  t5rpe,  and 
not  by  definition.  But  how  does  this  classification  difier 
from  that  of  the  scientific  Zoologist  1  How  does  the 
meaning  of  the  scientific  class-name  of  "Mammalia" 
difier  from  the  unscientific  of   "  Beasts "  ? 

Why,  exactly  because  the  former  depends  on  a  defi- 
nition, the  latter  on  a  type.  The  class  Mammalia  is 
scientifically  defined  as  "  all  animals  which  have  a  ver- 
tebrated  skeleton  and  suckle  their  young."  Here  is  no 
reference  to  type,  but  a  definition  rigorous  enough  for  a 
geometrician.  And  such  is  the  character  which  every 
scientific  naturalist,  recognises  as  that  to  which  his  classes 

Bpecies  than  with  any  others,  form  the  genus,  and  are  ranged  about  it, 
deviating  from  it  in  various  directions  and  diflerent  degrees." — Wheweli^, 
The  Fhilosojjhy  of  the  Inductive  ticimces,  vol.  i.  pp.  476,  477. 


r.]   i:d  ucational  val  ue  of  natural  history  SCUNCES.   8  3 

must  aspire — knowing,  as  lie  does,  that  classification  by 
type  is  simply  an  acknowledgment  of  ignorance  and  a 
temporary^  device. 

So  much  in  the  way  of  negative  argument  as  against 
the  reputed  differences  between  Biological  and  other 
methods.  No  such  differences,  I  believe,  really  exist. 
The  subject-matter  of  Biological  science  is  different 
from  that  of  other  sciences,  but  the  methods  of  all  are 
identical;  and  these  methods  are — 

1.  Observation  of  fptcts — including  uuder  this  head 
that  artificial  ohservation  which  is  called  experiment. 

2.  That  process  of  tying  up  similar  facts  into  bundles, 
ticketed  and  ready  for  use,  which  is  called  Comparison 
and  Classification, — the  results  of  the  process,  the 
ticketed  bundles,  being  named  General  propositions. 

3.  Deduction,  which  takes  us  from  the  general  pro- 
position to  facts  again — teaches  us,  if  I  may  so  say,  to 
anticipate  from  the  ticket  what  is  inside  the  bundle. 
And  finally — 

4.  Verification,  which  is  the  process  of  ascertaining 
whether,  in  point  of  fact,  our  anticipation  is  a  correct 
one. 

Such  are  the  methods  of  all  science  whatsoever ;  but 
perhaps  you  will  permit  me  to  give  you  an  illustration 
of  their  employment  in  the  science  of  Life ;  and  I  will 
take  as  a  special  case,  the  establishment  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Circulation  of  the  Blood. 

In  this  case,  sinip)le  ohservation  yields  ns  a  knowledge 
of  the  existence  of  the  blood  from  some  accidental 
hsemorrhage,  we  will  say :  we  may  even  grant  that  it 
iu forms  us  of  the  localization  of  this  blood  in  particular. 
vessels,  the  heart,  &c.,  from  some  accidental  cut  or  the 
like.  It  teaches  also  the  existence  of  a  pulse  in  various 
parts  of  the  body,  and  acquaints  us  with  the  structure  of 
the  heart  and  vessels. 


B  4  LAY  SERMONS,  ABDBESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [v. 

Here,  however,  simple  observation  stops,  and  we 
must  liave  recourse  to  experiment. 

You  tie  a  vein,  and  you  find  that  the  blood  acicumu- 
hites  on  tlie  side  of  tlie  ligature  opposite  the  heart.  You 
tie  an  artery,  and  you  find  that  the  blood  accumulates 
on  the  side  near  the  heart.  Open  the  chest,  and  you 
see  the  heart  contracting  with  great  force.  Make  open- 
ings into  its  principal  cavities,  and  you  will  find  that 
all  the  blood  flows  out,  and  no  more  pressure  is  exerted 
on  either  side  of  the  arterial  or  venous  ligature. 

Now  all  these  facts,  taken  together,  constitute  the 
evidence  that  the  blood  is  propelled  by  the  heart  through 
the  arteries,  and  returns  by  the  veins — that,  in  short,  the 
blood  circulates. 

Suppose  our  experiments  and  observations  have  been 
made  on  horses,  then  we  group  and  ticket  them  into  a 
general  proposition,  thus  : — all  horses  have  a  circulation 
of  their  blood. 

Henceforward  a  horse  is  a  sort  of  indication  or  label, 
telling  us  where  we  shall  find  a  peculiar  series  of  phe- 
nomena called  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 

Here  is  our  general  proposition,  then. 

How,  and  when,  are  we  justified  in  making  our  next 
step — a  deduction  from  it  % 

Suppose  our  physiologist,  whose  experience  is  limited 
to  horses,  meets  with  a  zebra  for  the  first  time, — will  he 
suppose  that  this  generalization  holds  good  for  zebras 
ako  ? 

That  depends  very  much  on  his  turn  of  mind.  But 
we  will  suppose  him  to  be  a  bold  man.  He  will  say, 
*'  The  zebra  is  certainly  not  a  horse,  but  it  is  very  like 
one, — so  like,  that  it  must  be  the  '  ticket '  or  mark  of  a 
blood-circulation  also ;  and,  I  conclude  that  the  zebra 
has  a  circulation." 

That  is  a  deduction,  a  very  fair  deduction,  but  by  no 


v.]  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.   85 

means  to  be  considered  scientifically  secure.  This  last 
quality  in  fact  can  only  be  given  by  verijication-^^hd^t 
is,  by  making  a  zebra  tlie  subject  of  all  the  experiments 
performed  on  the  horse.  Of  course,  in  the  present  case, 
the  deduction  would  be  conjinned  by  this  process  of 
verification,  and  the  result  would  be,  not  merely  a 
positive  widening  of  knowledge,  but  a  fair  increase  of 
confidence  in  the  truth  of  one's  generalizations  in  other 
cases. 

Thus,  having  settled  the  point  in  the  zebra  and  horse, 
our  philosopher  would  have  great  confidence  in  the  ex- 
istence of  a  circulation  in  the  ass.  Nay,  I  fancy  most 
persons  would  excuse  him,  if  in  this  case  he  did  not 
take  the  trouble  to  go  through  the  process  of  verification 
at  all ;  and  it  would  not  be  without  a  parallel  in  the 
history  of  the  human  mind,  if  our  imaginary  physiologist 
now  maintained  that  he  was  acquainted  with  asinine 
circulation  a  'priori. 

However,  if  I  might  impress  any  caution  upon  your 
minds,  it  is,  the  utterly  conditional  nature  of  all  our 
knowledge, — the  danger  of  neglecting  the  process  of 
verification  under  any  circumstances  ;  and  the  film  upon 
which  we  rest,  the  moment  our  deductions  carry  us 
beyond  the  reach  of  this  great  process  of  verification. 
There  is  no  better  instance  of  this  than  is  afibrded  by 
the  history  of  our  knowledge  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  in  the  animal  kingdom  until  the  year  1824.  In 
every  animal  possessing  a  circulation  at  all,  which  had 
been  observed  up  to  that  time,  the  current  of  the  blood 
was  known  to  take  one  definite  and  invariable  direction. 
Now,  there  is  a  class  of  animals  called  Ascidians,  w^hich 
possess  a  heart  and  a  circulation,  and  up  to  the  period  of 
which  I  speak,  no  one  would  have  dreamt  of  questioning 
the  propriety  of  the  deduction,  that  these  creatures  have 
a  circulation  in  one  direction ;  nor  would  any  one  have 
5 


86  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [V. 

fchouglit  it  worth  while  to  verify  the  point.  But,  in  that 
year,  M.  von  Hasselt,  happening  to  examine  a  transparent 
animal  of  this  class,  found,  to  his  infinite  surprise,  that 
after  the  heart  had  beat  a  certain  number  of  times,  it 
stopped,  and  then  began  beating  the  opposite  way — so 
as  to  reverse  the  course  of  the  current,  which  returned 
by  and  by  to  its  original  direction. 

I  have  myself  timed  the  heart  of  these  little  animals. 
I  found  it  as  regular  as  possible  in  its  periods  of  reversal : 
and  I  know  no  spectacle  in  the  animal  kingdom  more 
wonderful  than  that  which  it  presents — all  the  more 
wonderful  that  to  this  day  it  remains  an  unique  fact, 
peculiar  to  this  class  among  the  whole  animated  world. 
At  the  same  time  I  know  of  no  more  striking  case  of 
the  necessity  of  the  verification  of  even  those  deduc- 
tions which  seem  founded  on  the  widest  and  safest 
inductions. 

Such  are  the  methods  of  Biology ^ — m.ethods  which  are 
obviously  identical  with  those  of  all  other  sciences,  and 
therefore  wholly  incompetent  to  form  the  ground  of  any 
distinction  between  it  and  them.^ 

But  I  shall  be  asked  at  once,  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  there  is  no  difference  between  the  habit  of  mind 
of  a  mathematician  and  that  of  a  naturalist  1  Do  you 
imagine  that  Laplace  might  have  been  put  into  the 
Jardin  des  Plantes,  and  Cuvier  into  the  Observatory, 
with  equal  advantage  to  the  progress  of  the  sciences 
they  professed  ? 

To  which  I  would  reply,  that  nothing  could  be  further 
from  my  thoughts.  But  different  habits  and  various 
special  tendencies  of  two  sciences  do  not  imply  different 
methods.  The  mountaineer  and  the  man  of  the  plains 
have   very  different   habits    of    progression,    and    each 

^  Save  for  the  pleasure  of  doing  so,  I  need  hardly  point  out  my  obligations 
tu  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill's  "System  of  Logic,"  in  this  view  of  scientific  method. 


r.]  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.  87 

would  be  at  a  loss  in  tlie  other  s  place  ;  but  tlie  metliod 
of  progression,  by  putting  one  leg  before  the  other,  is 
the  same  in  each  case.  Every  step  of  each  is  a  combi- 
nation of  a  lift  and  a  push ;  but  the  mountaineer  lifts 
more  and  the  lowlander  pushes  more.  And  I  think  the 
case  of  two  sciences  resembles  this. 

I  do  not  question  for  a  moment,  that  while  the  Mathe- 
matician is  busied  with  deductions  from  general  pro- 
positions, the  Biologist  is  more  especially  occupied  with 
observation,  comparison,  and  those  processes  which  lead 
to  general  propositions.  All  I  wish  to  insist  upon  is, 
that  this  difference  depends  not  on  any  fundamental 
distinction  in  the  sciences  the:  aselves,  but  on  the  ac- 
cidents of  their  subject-matter,  of  their  relative  com- 
plexity, and  consequent  relative  perfection. 

The  Mathematician  deals  with  two  properties  of 
objects  only,  number  and  extension,  and  all  the  in- 
ductions he  wants  have  been  formed  and  finished  ages 
ago.  He  is  occupied  now  with  nothing  but  deduction 
and  verification. 

The  Biologist  deals  with  a  vast  number  of  properties 
of  objects,  and  his  inductions  will  not  be  completed,  I 
fear,  for  ages  to  come ;  but  when  they  are,  his  science 
will  be  as  deductive  and  as  exact  as  the  Mathematics 
themselves. 

Such  is  the  relation  of  Biology  to  those  sciences  which 
deal  with  objects  having  fewer  properties  than  itself 
But  as  the  student,  in  reaching  Biology,  looks  back  upon 
sciences  of  a  less  complex  and  therefore  more  perfect 
nature ;  so,  on  the  other  hand,  does  he  look  forward  to 
other  more  complex  and  less  perfect  branches  of  know- 
ledge. Biology  deals  only  with  living  beings  as  isolated 
things — treats  only  of  the  life  of  the  individual :  but 
there  is  a  higher  division  of  science  still,  which  considers 
living  beings  as  aggregates — which  deals  with  the  rela- 


88  lAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [v 

fcion  of  livinof  beino^s  one  to  another — tlie  science  wliicli 
observes  men — whose  experiments  are  made  by  nations 
one  upon  another,  in  battle-fielcls — whose  general  jorojpo- 
sitions  are  embodied  in  history,  morality,  and  religion — 
whose  deductions  lead  to  our  happiness  or  our  misery, 
—and  whose  verifications  so  often  come  too  late,  and 
serA^e  only 

*To  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a  tale" — 

I  mean  the  science  of  Society  or  Sociology/. 

I  think  it  is  one  of  the  grandest  features  of  Biology, 
that  it  occupies  this  central  position  in  hunian  know- 
ledo-e.  There  is  no  side  of  the  human  mind  which 
physiological  study  leaves  uncultivated.  Connected  by 
innumerable  ties  with  abstract  science,  Physiology  is  yet 
in  the  most  intimate  relation  with  humanity  ;  and  by 
teaching  us  that  law  and  order,  and  a  definite  scheme 
of  development,  regulate  even  the  strangest  and  wildest 
manifest?ttions  of  individual  life,  she  prepares  the  student 
to  look  for  a  goal  even  amidst  the  erratic  wanderings  of 
mankind,  and  to  believe  that  history  offers  something 
more  than  an  entertaining  chaos — a  journal  of  a  toilsome, 
fcras[i-comic  march  nowhither. 

The  preceding  considerations  have,  I  hope,  served  to 
indicate  the  replies  which  befit  the  two  first  of  the 
questions  which  I  set  before  you  at  starting,  viz.  what  is 
the  range  and  position  of  Physiological  Science  as  a 
branch  of  knowledge,  and  what  is  its  value  as  a  means 
of  mental  discipline. 

Its  subject-matter  is  a  large  moiety  of  the  universe — 
i  ts  position  is  midway  between  the  physico-chemical  and 
the  social  sciences.  Its  value  as  a  branch  of  discipline 
is  partly  that  which  it  has  in  common  with  all  sciences — 
the  training  and  strengthening  of  common  sense  ;  partly 
that  which  is  more  peculiar  to  itself — the  great  exercise 


w.']  EDUCATIONAL   VALVE  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY  SCIENCES.    89 

which  it  affords  to  the  faculties  of  observation  and  com- 
parison ;  and  I  may  add,  the  exactness  of  knowledge 
which  it  recjiiires  on  the  part  of  those  among  its  votaries 
who  desire  to  extend  its  boundaries. 

If  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  position  and  scope 
of  Biology  be  correct,  our  third  question — What  is  the 
practical  value  of  physiological  instruction  1 — might,  one 
would  think,  be  left  to  answer  itself. 

On  other  grounds  even,  were  mankind  deserving  of 
the  title  '^  rational,''  which  they  arrogate  to  themselves, 
there  can  be  no  question  that  they  would  consider,  as  the 
most  necessary  of  all  branches  of  instruction  for  them- 
selves and  for  their  children,  that  which  professes  to 
acquaint  them  with  the  conditions  of  the  existence  they 
prize  so  highly — which  teaches  them  how  to  avoid 
disease  and  to  cherish  health,  in  themselves  and  those 
who  are  dear  to  them. 

I  am  addressing,  I  imagine,  an  audience  of  educated 
persons ;  and  yet  I  dare  venture  to  assert  that,  with  the 
exception  of  those  of  my  hearers  who  may  chance  to 
have  received  a  medical  education,  there  is  not  one  who 
could  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning:  and  use  of  an  act 
which  he  performs  a  score  of  times  every  minute,  and 
whose  suspension  would  involve  his  immediate  death ; — 
I  mean  the  act  of  breathing — or  who  could  state  in 
precise  terms  why  it  is  that  a  confined  atmosphere  is 
injurious  to  health. 

The  practical  value  of  Physiological  knowledge  1 
Why  is  it  that  educated  men  can  be  found  to  maintaiji 
that  a  slaughter-house  in  the  midst  of  a  great  city  is 
rather  a  good  thing  than  otherwise  ? — that  mothers 
persist  in  exposing  the  largest  possible  amount  of  surface 
of  their  children  to  the  cold,  by  the  absurd  style  of  dress 
they  adopt,  and  then  marvel  at  the  peculiar  dispensation 
of  Providence,  which  removes  their  infants  by  bronchitis 


90  LAY  SERMONS,  ADBRISSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [▼ 

and  gastric  fever  ?  Why  is  it  that  quackery  rides  ram- 
pant over  the  land ;  and  that  not  long  ago,  one  of  the 
largest  public  rooms  in  this  great  city  could  be  filled  by 
an  audience  gTavely  listening  to  the  reverend  expositor 
of  the  doctrine — that  the  simple  physiological  phoenomena 
known  as  spirit-rapping,  table-turning,  phreno-magnetism, 
and  by  I  know  not  what  other  absurd  and  inappropriate 
names,  are  due  to  the  direct  and  personal  agency  of  Satan  ? 

Why  is  all  this,  except  from  the  utter  ignorance  as  to 
the  simplest  ^aws  of  their  own  animal  life,  which  prevails 
among  even  the  most  highly  educated  persons  in  this 
country  ? 

But  there  are  other  branches  of  Biological  Science, 
besides  Physiology  proper,  whose  practical  influence, 
though  less  obvious,  is  not,  as  I  believe,  less  certain.  I 
have  heard  educated  men  speak  with  an  ill-disguised 
contempt  of  the  studies  of  the  naturalist,  and  ask,  not 
without  a  shruo^,  "  What  is  the  use  of  knowino^  all  about 
these  miserable  animals — what  bearing  has  it  on  human 
life?" 

I  will  endeavour  to  answer  that  question.  I  take  it 
that  all  will  admit  there  is  defijiite  Government  of  this 
universe — that  its  pleasures  and  pains  are  not  scattered 
at  random,  but  are  distributed  in  accordance  with  orderly 
and  fixed  laws,  and  that  it  is  only  in  accordance  with 
all  we  know  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  that  there  should 
be  an  agreement  between  one  portion  of  the  sensitive 
creation  and  another  in  these  matters. 

Surely  then  it  interests  us  to  know  the  lot  of  other 
animal  creatures— however  far  below  us,  they  are  still 
the  sole  created  things  which  share  with  us  the  capability 
of  pleasure  and  the  susceptibility  to  pain. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  he  who  finds  a  certain  pro- 
portion of  pain  and  evil  inseparably  woven  up  in  the  life 
of  the  very  worms,  will  bear  his  own  share  with  more 


v.]    EDUCATION AL  VALUE  OF  NATUR J L  HISTORY  SCIENCES.    91 

courage  and  submission ;  and  will,  at  any  rate,  view  with 
suspicion  those  weakly  amiable  theories  of  the  Divine 
government,  which  would  have  us  believe  pain  to  be  an 
oversight  and  a  mistake, — to  be  corrected  by  and  by. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  predominance  of  happiness 
among  li^dng  things — their  lavish  beauty — the  secret  and 
wonderful  harmony  which  pervades  them  all,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  are  equally  striking  refutations  of 
that  modern  Manichean  doctrine,  which  exhibits  the 
world  as  a  slave-mill,  worked  with  many  tears,  for  mere 
utilitarian  ends. 

There  is  yet  another  way  in  which  natural  history 
may,  I  am  convinced,  take  a  profound  hold  upon  practical 
life, — and  that  is,  by  its  influence  over  our  finer  feelings, 
as  the  greatest  of  all  sources  of  that  pleasure  which  is 
derivable  from  beauty.  I  do  not  pretend  that  natural- 
history  knowledge,  as  such,  can  increase  our  sense  of  the 
beautiful  in  natural  objects.  I  do  not  suppose  that  the 
dead  soul  of  Peter  Bell,  of  whom  the  great  poet  of  nature 
says,— 

A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  liim, — 
And  it  was  notMng  more, — 

would  have  been  a  whit  roused  from  its  apathy,  by  the 
information  that  the  primrose  is  a  Dicotyledonous 
Exogen,  with  a  monopetaious  corolla  and  centrcil  placen- 
tation.  But  I  advocate  natural-history  knowledge  from 
this  point  of  view,  because  it  ^'ould  lead  us  to  seek  the 
beauties  of  natural  objects,  instead  of  trusting  to  chance 
to  force  them  on  our  attention.  To  a  person  uninstructed 
in  natural  history,  his  country  or  sea-side  stroll  is  a  walk 
through  a  gallery  filled  with  wonderful  works  of  art, 
nine-tenths  of  which  have  their  faces  turned  to  the  wall. 
Teach  him  something  of  natural  history,  and  you  place 
in   his    hands  a   catalogue    of    those    which    are  wortl) 


92  J^T  SFRMOXS,  ADDRESSES,  AXD  BEFIElfS.  [v. 

turning  ronnd.  Surely  our  innocent  pleasures  are  not  so 
abundant  in  tliis  life,  that  "we  can  afford  to  despise  tliis 
or  anv  otlier  source  of  them.  We  should  fear  being 
banished  for  our  neoiect  to  that  limbo,  where  the  o^reat 
Florentine  tells  us  are  those  who,  during  this  life,  "  wept 
when  they  might  be  joyful." 

But  I  shall  be  trespassing  unwarrantably  on  your 
kindness,  if  I  do  not  proceed  at  once  to  my  last  point — 
the  time  at  which  Physiological  Science  should  first  form 
a  part  of  the  Curriculum  of  Education. 

The  distinction  between  the  teachino-  of  the  facts  of  a 
science  as  instruction,  and  the  teaching  it  systematically 
as  knowledge,  has  already  been  placed  before  you  in  a 
previous  lecture  :  and  it  appears  to  me,  that,  as  with 
other  sciences,  the  common  facts  of  Biology — the  uses  of 
parts  of  the  body — the  names  and  habits  of  the  living 
creatm^es  which  surround  us — mav  be  tauoht  with 
advantage  to  the  youngest  child.  Indeed,  the  avidity  of 
chiLdren  for  this  kind  of  knowledge,  and  the  comparative 
ease  with  which  they  retain  it,  is  something  quite 
marvellous.  I  doubt  whether  any  toy  would  be  so 
acceptable  to  young  children  as  a  vivarium  of  the  same 
kind  as,  but  of  course  on  a  smaller  scale  than  those 
admirable  devices  hi  the  Zoolooical  Gardens. 

On  the  other  hand,  systematic  teaching  in  Biology 
cannot  be  attempted  with  success  until  the  student  has 
attained  to  a  certain  knowledge  of  physics  and  chemistry  : 
for  though  the  jjhgenomena  of  life  are  dependent  neither 
on  physical  nor  on  chemical,  but  on  vital  forces,  yet  they 
result  in  all  sorts  of  physical  and  chemical  changes, 
which  can  only  be  judged  by  their  own  laws. 

And  now  to  sum  up  in  a  few  words  the  conclusions  to 
which  I  hope  you  see  reason  to  follow  me. 

Biolog}^  needs  no  apologist  when  she  demands  a  place 
— and  a  prominent  place — in  any  scheme  of  education 


V.J    EDUCATIONAL  VALUE  OF  NATURAL  EISTORY  SCIENCES,    93 

worthy  of  the  name.  Leave  out  the  Physiological 
sciences  from  your  curriculum,  and  you  launch  the 
student  into  the  world,  undisciplined  in  that  science 
whose  subject-matter  would  Lest  develop  his  powers  of 
observation ;  ignorant  of  facts  of  the  deepest  importance 
for  his  own  and  others'  w^elfare ;  blind  to  the  richest 
sources  of  beauty  in  God's  creation  ;  and  unprovided 
with  that  belief  in  a  living  law,  and  an  order  manifesting 
itself  in  and  through  endless  change  and  variety,  which 
might  serve  to  check  and  moderate  that  phase  of  despair 
through  which,  if  he  talie  an  earnest  interest  in  social 
problems,  he  wall  assuredly  sooner  or  later  pass. 

Finally,  one  word  for  myself  I  have  not  hesitated  to 
speak  strongly  where  I  have  felt  strongly ;  and  I  am  but 
too  conscious  that  the  indicative  and  imperative  moods 
have  too  often  taken  the  place  of  the  more  becoming 
subjunctive  and  conditional.  I  feel,  therefore,  how 
necessary  it  is  to  beg  you  to  forget  the  personality  of 
him  who  has  thus  ventured  to  address  you,  and  to  con- 
sider only  the  truth  or  error  in  w^hat  has  been  said* 


YI. 

m    THE    STUDY    OF    ZOOLOGy. 

Natural  History  is  tlie  name  familiarly  applied  to  tlie 
study  of  tlie  properties  of  such  natural  bodies  as  mine- 
rals, plants,  and  animals  ;  the  sciences  which  embody 
the  knowledge  man  has  accjuired  upon  these  subjects 
are  commonly  termed  Natural  Sciences,  in  contradistinc- 
tion to  other  so-called  "  physical ''  sciences ;  and  those 
who  devote  themselves  especially  to  the  pursuit  of 
such  sciences  have  been  and  are  commonly  termed 
*'  Naturalists." 

Linnaeus  was  a  naturalist  in  this  wide  sense,  and  his 
"  Systema  Nature  "  was  a  work  upon  natural  history,  in 
the  broadest  acceptation  of  the  term  ;  in  it,  that  great 
methodizing  spirit  embodied  all  that  was  known  in  his 
time  of  the  distinctive  characters  of  minerals,  animals, 
and  plants.  But  the  enormous  stimulus  which  Linnseus 
gave  to  the  investigation  of  nature  soon  rendered  it 
impossible  that  any  one  man  should  write  another 
"  Systema  Naturae,"  and  extremely  difficult  for  any  one 
to  become  a  naturalist  such  as  Linnaeus  was. 

Great  as  have  been  the  advances  made  by  all  the  three 
branches  of  science,  of  old  included  under  the  title  of 
natural  history,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  zoology  and 
botany  have  grown  in  an  enormously  greater  ratio  than 


n.]  ON  TEE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY.  95 

mineralogy ;  and  hence,  as  I  suppose,  the  name  of 
*' natural  history"  has  gradually  become  more  and  more 
definitely  attached  to  these  prominent  divisions  of  the 
subject,  and  by  **  naturalist"  people  have  meant  more 
and  more  distinctly  to  imply  a  student  of  the  structure 
and  functions  of  living  beings. 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  the  advance  of 
knowledge  has  gradually  widened  the  distance  between 
mineralogy  and  its  old  associates,  while  it  has  drawn 
zoology  and  botany  closer  together ;  so  that  of  late  years 
it  has  been  found  convenient  (and  indeed  necessary)  to 
associate  the  sciences  which  deal  with  vitality  and  all  its 
phenomena  under  the  common  head  of  "  biology ;"  and 
the  biologists  have  come  to  repudiate  any  blood-relation- 
ship with  their  foster-brothers,  the  mineralogists. 

Certain  broad  laws  have  a  general  application  through- 
out both  the  animal  and  the  vegetable  worlds,  but  the 
ground  common  to  these  kingdoms  of  nature  is  not  of 
very  wide  extent,  and  the  multiplicity  of  details  is  so 
great,  that  the  student  of  living  beings  finds  himself 
obliged  to  devote  his  attention  exclusively  either  to  the 
one  or  the  other.  If  he  elects  to  study  plants,  under 
any  aspect,  we  know  at  once  what  to  call  him.  He  is  a 
botanist,  and  his  science  is  botany.  But  if  the  investi- 
gation of  animal  life  be  his  choice,  the  name  generally 
applied  to  him  will  vary  according  to  the  kind  of 
animals  he  studies,  or  the  particular  phsenomena  of 
animal  life  to  which  he  confines  his  attention.  If  the 
study  of  man  is  his  object,  he  is  called  an  anatomist,  or 
a  physiologist,  or  an  ethnologist ;  but  if  he  dissects 
animals,  or  examines  into  the  mode  in  which  their  func- 
tions are  performed,  he  is  a  comparative  anatomist  or 
comparative  physiologist.  If  he  turns  his  attention  to 
fossil  animals,  he  is  a  palaeontologist.  If  his  mind  is 
more  particularly   directerl   to  the    description    specific, 


96  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vi. 

discrimination,  classification,  and  distribution"  of  animals, 
he  is  termed  a  zoolooist. 

o 

For  the  pm^poses  of  the  present  discourse,  however,  I 
shall  recognise  none  of  these  titles  save  the  last,  which  I 
shall  emxploy  as  the  equivalent  of  botanist,  and  I  shall 
use  the  term  zoology  as  denoting  the  whole  doctrine 
of  animal  life,  in  contradistinction  to  botany,  which 
signifies  the  whole  doctrine  of  vegetable  life. 

Employed  in  this  sense,  zoology,  like  botany,  is  di- 
visible into  three  great  but  subordinate  sciences,  mor- 
phology, physiology,  and  distribution,  each  of  which 
may,  to  a  very  great  extent,  be  studied  independently 
of  the  other. 

Zoological  morphology  is  the  doctrine  of  animal  form 
or  structure.  Anatomy  is  one  of  its  branches ;  develop- 
ment is  another ;  while  classification  is  the  expression 
of  the  relations  which  clifierent  animals  bear  to  one 
another,  in  respect  of  their  anatomy  and  their  develop- 
ment. 

Zoological  distribution  is  the  study  of  animals  in 
relation  to  the  terrestrial  conditions  which  obtain  now, 
or  have  obtained  at  any  previous  epoch  of  the  earth's 
history. 

Zoological  physiology,  lastly,  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
functions  or  actions  of  aninials.  It  regards  animal  bodies 
as  machines  impelled  by  certain  forces,  and  performing 
an  amount  of  work  which  can  be  expressed  in  terms  of 
the  ordinary  forces  of  nature.  The  final  object  of  phy- 
siology is  to  deduce  the  facts  of  morphology,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  those  of  distribution  on  the  other,  from  the 
laws  of  the  molecular  forces  of  matter. 

Such  is  the  scope  of  zoology.  But  if  I  were  to  content 
myself  with  the  enunciation  of  these  dry  definitions,  I 
should  ill  exemplify  that  method  of  teaching  this  branch 
of  physical  science,  Avhich  it  is  my  chief  business    to- 


vi.J  ON  TEE  tiTUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY,  97 

night  to  recommend.  Let  us  turn  away  then  from 
abstract  definitions.  Let  us  take  some  concrete  livinor 
thing,  some  animal,  the  commoner  the  better,  and  let  us 
see  how  the  application  of  common  sense  and  common 
logic  to  the  obvious  facts  it  presents,  inevitably  leads  us 
into  all  these  branches  of  zoological  science. 

I  have  before  me  a  lobster.  When  I  examine  it,  v/hat 
appears  to  be  the  most  striking  character  it  presents? 
Why,  I  observe  that  this  part  which  we  call  the  tail  of 
the  lobster,  is  made  up  of  six  distinct  hard  rings  and  a 
seventh  terminal  piece.  If  I  separate  one  of  the  middle 
rings,  say  the  third,  I  find  it  carnes  upon  its  under  sur- 
face a  pair  of  limbs  or  appendages,  each  of  which  con- 
sists of  a  stalk  and  two  terminal  pieces.  So  that  I  can 
represent  a  transverse  section  of  the  ring  and  its  appen- 
dages upon  the  diagram  board  in  this  way. 

If  I  now  take  the  fourth  ring  I  find  it  has  the  same 
structure,  and  so  have  the  fifth  and  the  second  ;  so  that, 
in  each  of  these  divisions  of  the  tail,  I  find  parts  which 
correspond  with  one  another,  a  ring  and  two  appendages  ; 
and  in  each  appendage  a  stalk  and  two  end  pieces. 
These  corresponding  parts  are  called,  in  the  technical 
language  of  anatomy,  "homologous  parts."'  The  ring 
of  the  third  division  is  the  "  homologue "  of  the  ring 
of  the  fifth,  the  appendage  of  the  former  is  the  homo- 
logue of  the  appendage  of  the  latter.  And,  as  each 
division  exhibits  corresponding  parts  in  corresponding 
places,  we  say  that  all  the  divisions  are  constructed  upon 
the  same  plan.  But  now  let  us  consider  the  sixth  di- 
vision. It  is  similar  to,  and  yet  difierent  from,  the 
others.  The  ring  is  essentially  the  same  as  in  the  other 
divisions ;  but  the  appendages  look  at  first  as  if  they 
were  very  different ;  and  yet  when  we  regard  them 
closely,  what  do  we  find  1  A  stalk  and  two  terminal 
divisions,  exactly  as  in  the  others,  but  the  stalk  is  very 


d8  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vi. 

sliort  and  very  tliick,  the  terminal  divisions  are  very 
broad  and  fiat,  and  one  of  tliem  is  divided  into  two 
pieces. 

I  may  say,  therefore,  that  the  sixth  segment  is  like  the 
others  in  plan,  but  that  it  is  modified  in  its  details. 

The  first  segment  is  like  the  others,  so  far  as  its  ring  is 
concerned,  and  though  its  appendages  differ  from  any  of 
those  yet  examined  in  the  simplicity  of  their  structure, 
parts  corresponding  with  the  stem  and  one  of  the  divi- 
sions of  the  appendages  of  the  other  segments  can  be 
readily  discerned  in  them. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  lobster's  tail  is  composed  of 
a  series  of  segments  which  are  fundamentally  similar, 
though  each  presents  peculiar  modifications  of  the  plan 
common  to  all.  But  when  I  turn  to  the  fore  part  of  the 
body  I  see,  at  first,  nothing  but  a  great  shield-like  shell, 
called  technically  the  "  carapace,"  ending  in  front  in  a 
sharp  spine,  on  either  side  of  which  are  the  curious  com- 
pound eyes,  set  upon  the  ends  of  stout  moveable  stalks. 
Behind  these,  on  the  under  side  of  the  body,  are  two 
pairs  of  long  feelers,  or  antennse,  followed  by  six  ]3airs  of 
jaws,  folded  against  one  another  over  the  mouth,  and 
five  pairs  of  legs,  the  foremost  of  these  being  the  great 
pinchers,  or  claws,  of  the  lobster. 

It  looks,  at  first,  a  little  hopeless  to  attempt  to  find  in 
this  complex  mass  a  series  of  rings,  each  with  its  pair  of 
appendages,  such  as  I  have  shown  you  in  the  abdomen, 
and  yet  it  is  not  difiicult  to  demonstrate  their  existence. 
Strip  ofi"  the  legs,  and  you  will  find  that  each  pair  is 
attached  to  a  very  definite  segment  of  the  under  wall 
of  the  body  ;  but  these  segments,  instead  of  being  the 
lower  parts  of  free  rings,  as  in  the  tail,  are  such  parts  of 
rings  which  are  all  soHdly  united  and  bound  together  ; 
and  the  like  is  true  of  the  jaws,  the  feelers,  and  the  eye- 
stalks,  every  pair  of  which  is  borne  upon  its  own  special 


VL.]  ON  TRE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY.  99 

segment.  Thus  tlie  conclusion  is  gradually  forced  upon 
us,  that  the  body  of  the  lobster  is  composed  of  as  many 
rings  as  there  are  pairs  of  appendages,  namely,  twenty 
in  all,  but  that  the  six  hindmost  rinses  remain  free  and 
moveable,  while  the  fourteen  front  rings  become  firmly 
soldered  together,  their  backs  forming  one  continuous 
shield — the  carapace. 

Unity  of  plan,  diversity  in  execution,  is  the  lesson 
taught  by  the  study  of  the  rings  of  the  body,  and  the 
same  instruction  is  given  still  more  emphatically  by  the 
appendages.  If  I  examine  the  outermost  jaw  I  find  it 
consists  of  three  distinct  portions,  an  inner,  a  middle, 
and  an  outer,  mounted  upon  a  common  stem ;  and  if  I 
compare  this  jaw  with  the  legs  behind  it,  or  the  jaws  in 
front  of  it,  I  find  it  quite  easy  to  see,  that,  in  the  legs,  it 
is  the  part  of  the  appendage  v\'hich  correspends  with  the 
inner  division,  which  becomes  modified  into  what  we 
know  familiarly  as  the  *'  leg,''  while  the  middle  division 
disappears,  and  the  outer  division  is  hidden  under  the 
carapace.  Nor  is  it  more  difficult  to  discern  that,  in  the 
appendages  of  the  tail,  the  middle  division  appears 
again  and  the  outer  vanishes  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
in  the  foremost  jaw,  the  so-called  mandible,  the  inner 
division  only  is  left ;  and,  in  the  same  way,  the  parts  of 
the  feelers  and  of  the  eye-stalks  can  be  identified  with 
those  of  the  legs  and  jaws. 

But  whither  does  all  this  tend  ?  To  the  very  remark- 
able conclusion  that  a  unity  of  plan,  of  the  same  kind  as 
that  discoverable  in  the  tail  or  abdomen  of  the  lobster, 
pervades  the  whole  organization  of  its  skeleton,  so  that 
I  can  return  to  the  diagram  representing  any  one  of  the 
rings  of  the  tail,  which  I  drew  upon  the  board,  and  by 
adding  a  third  division  to  each  appendage,  I  can  use  it 
as  a  sent  of  scheme  or  plan  of  any  ring  of  the  body.  I 
can  give  names  to  all  the  parts  of  that  figure,  and  then 


LOO  l^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [vi. 

if  I  take  any  segment  of  tlie  body  of  tlie  lobster,  I  can 
point  out  to  you  exactly,  what  modification  tlie  general 
plan  has  undergone  m  that  particular  segTuent;  what 
part  has  remained  moveable,  and  what  has  become  fixed 
bo  another)  what  has  been  excessively  developed  and 
metamorphosed,  and  what  has  been  suppressed. 

But  I  imagine  I  hear  the  question,  How  is  all  this  to 
be  tested  ?  No  doubt  it  is  a  pretty  and  ingenious  way 
of  looking  at  the  structure  of  any  animal,  but  is  it  any- 
thing more  ?  Does  Nature  aclaiowledge,  in  any  deeper 
way,  this  unity  of  plan  we  seem  to  trace  ? 

The  objection  suggested  by  these  questions  is  a  very 
valid  and  important  one,  and  morphology  was  in  an 
unsound  state,  so  long  as  it  rested  upon  the  mere  percep- 
tion of  the  analogies  which  obtain  between  fully  formed 
parts.  The  unchecked  ingenuity  of  speculative  anato- 
mists proved  itself  fully  competent  to  spin  any  number 
of  contradictory  hypotheses  out  of  the  same  facts,  and 
endless  morphological  dreams  threatened  to  supplant 
scientific  theory. 

Happily,  however,  there  is  a  criterion  of  morpho- 
logical truth,  and  a  sure  test  of  all  homolooies.  Our 
lobster  has  not  always  been  what  we  see  it ;  it  was  once 
an  egg,  a  semifluid  mass  of  yolk,  not  so  big  as  a  pin's 
head,  contained  in  a  transparent  membrane,  and  exhi- 
biting not  the  least  trace  of  any  one  of  those  organs, 
whose  multiplicity  and  complexity,  in  the  adult,  are  so 
surprising.  After  a  time  a  delicate  patch  of  cellular 
membrane  appeared  upon  one  face  of  this  yolk,  and  that 
patch  was  the  foundation  of  the  whole  creature,  the  clay 
out  of  which  it  would  be  moulded.  Gradually  investing 
the  yolk,  it  became  subdivided  by  transverse  constric- 
tions into  segments,  the  forerunners  of  the  rings  of  the 
body.  Upon  the  ventral  surface  of  each  of  the  rings 
thus  sketched  out,  a  pair  of  bud-like  prominences  made 


VI.)  ON  THE  STUnr  OF  ZOOLOGY,  101 

their  appearance — tlie  rudiments  of  the  appendages  of 
the  ring.  At  first,  all  the  appendages  were  alike,  but,  as 
they  grew,  most  of  them  became  distinguished,  into  a 
stem  and  two  terminal  divisions,  to  which,  in  the  middle 
part  of  the  body,  was  added  a  third  outer  division  ;  and 
it  was  only  at  a  later  period,  that  by  the  modification,  or 
absorption,  of  certain  of  these  primitive  constituents,  the 
limbs  acquired  their  perfect  form. 

Thus  the  study  of  development  proves  that  the  doc- 
trine of  unity  of  plan  is  not  merely  a  fancy,  that  it  is 
not  merely  one  way  of  looking  at  the  matter,  but  that  it 
is  the  expression  of  deep-seated  natural  facts.  The  legs 
and  jaws  of  the  lobster  may  not  merely  be  regarded  as 
modifications  of  a  common  type, — in  fact  and  in  nature 
they  are  so, — the  leg  and  the  jaw  of  the  young  animal 
being,  at  first,  indistinguishable. 

These  are  wonderful  truths,  the  more  so  because  the 
zoologist  finds  them  to  be  of  universal  application.  The 
investigation  of  a  polype,  of  a  snail,  of  a  fish,  of  a  horse, 
or  of  a  man,  would  have  led  us,  though  by  a  less  easy 
path,  perhaps,  to  exactly  the  same  point.  Unity  of  plan 
everywhere  lies  hidden  under  the  mask  of  diversity  of 
structure — the  complex  is  ever5rf7here  evolved  out  of  the 
simple.  Every  animal  has  at  first  the  form  of  an  egg, 
and  every  animal  and  every  organic  part,  in  reaching  its 
adult  state,  passes  through  conditions  common  to  other 
animals  and  other  adult  parts ;  and  this  leads  me  to 
another  point.  I  have  hitherto  spoken  as  if  the  lobster 
were  alone  in  the  world,  but,  as  I  need  hardly  remind 
you,  there  are  myriads  of  other  animal  organisms.  Of 
these,  some,  such  as  men,  horses,  birds,  fishes,  snails, 
slugs,  oysters,  corals,  and  sponges,  are  not  in  the  least 
like  the  lobster.  But  other  animals,  though  they  may 
differ  a  good  deal  from  the  lobster,  are  yet  either  very 
like  it,  or  are  like  something  that  is  like  it     The  cray 


102  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vt» 

fisli,  the  rock  lobster,  and  the  prawn,  and  the  shrimp,  for 
example,  however  different,  are  yet  so  like  lobsters,  that 
a  child  would  group  them  as  of  the  lobster  kind,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  snails  and  sings ;  and  these  last  again 
would  form  a  kind  by  themselves,  in  contradistinction  to 
cows,  horses,  and  sheep,  the  cattle  kind. 

But  this  spontaneous  grouping  into  "kinds**  is  the 
first  essay  of  the  human  mind  at  classification,  or  the 
calling  by  a  common  name  of  those  things  that  are 
alike,  and  the  arranging  them  in  such  a  manner  as  best 
to  sup^o'est  the  sum  of  their  likenesses  and  unlikenesses 
to  other  things. 

Those  kinds  which  include  no  other  subdivisions  than 
the  sexes,  or  various  breeds,  are  called,  in  technical 
language,  species.  The  English  lobster  is  a  species, 
our  Cray  fish  is  another,  our  prawn  is  another.  In  other 
countries,  however,  there  are  lobsters,  cray  fish,  and 
prawns,  very  like  ours,  and  yet  presenting  sufficient 
differences  to  deserve  distinction.  Naturalists,  therefore, 
express  this  resemblance  and  this  diversity  by  grouping 
them  as  distinct  species  of  the  same  "genus."  But  the 
lobster  and  the  cray-fish,  though  belonging  to  distinct 
genera,  have  many  features  in  common,  and  hence  are 
grouped  together  in  an  assemblage  which  is  called  a 
family.  More  distant  resemblances  connect  the  lobster 
with  the  prawn  and  the  crab,  which  are  expressed  by 
putting  all  these  into  the  same  order.  Again,  more 
remote,  but  still  very  cleifinite,  resemblnaces  unite  the 
lobster  with  the  woodlouse,  the  king  crab,  the  water- 
flea,  and  the  barnacle,  and  separate  them  from  all  other 
animals ;  whence  they  collectively  constitute  the  larger 
group,  or  class,  Crustacea.  But  the  Crustacea  exhibit 
many  peculiar  features  in  common  with  insects,  spiders, 
and  centipedes,  so  that  these  are  grouped  into  the  still 
larger  assemblage  or  "  province  "  Articulata ;  and,  finally, 


VI.]  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY,  103 

die  relations  wliicli  tliese  liave  to  worms  aud  otlier  lower 
animals,  are  expressed  by  combining  the  whole  vast 
aggregate  into  the  snb-kingdom  of  Annidosa. 

If  I  had  worked  my  w^ay  from  a  sponge  instead  of  a 
lobster,  I  should  have  fonnd  it  associated,  by  like  ties, 
with  a  great  number  of  other  animals  into  the  sub- 
kino^dom  Protox.oa;  if  I  had  selected  a  fresh- water 
polype  or  a  coral,  the  members  of  what  natm^alists 
term  the  sub-kingdom  Ccelenferata  would  have  grouped 
themselves  around  my  type;  had  a  snail  been  chosen, 
the  inhabitants  of  all  univalve  and  bivalve,  land  and 
water,  shells,  the  lamp  shells  the  squids,  and  the  sea- 
mat  would  have  gradually  linked  themselves  on  to  it  as 
members  of  the  same  sub-kingdom  of  Mollusca ;  and 
finally,  starting  from  man,  I  should  have  been  compelled 
to  admit  first,  the  ape,  the  rat,  the  horse,  the  dog,  into 
the  same  class  ;  and  then  the  bird,  the  crocodile,  the 
turtle,  the  frog,  and  the  fish,  into  the  same  sub-kingdom 
of  Vertehrata. 

And  if  I  had  followed  out  all  these  various  lines  of 
classification  fully,  I  should  discover  in  the  end  that 
there  was  no  animal,  either  recent  or  fossil,  which  did 
not  at  once  fall  into  one  or  other  of  these  sub-kingdoms. 
In  other  words,  every  animal  is  organized  upon  one  or 
other  of  the  five,  or  more,  plans,  whose  existence  renders 
our  classification  possible.  And  so  definitely  and  pre- 
cisely marked  is  the  structure  of  each  animal,  that,  in 
the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  there  is  not  the  least 
evidence  to  prove  that  a  form,  in  the  slightest  degree 
transitional  between  any  of  the  two  groups  Vertehrata, 
uinmilosa,  Mollusca,  and  Ccelenterata,  either  exists,  or 
lias  existed,  during  that  period  of  the  earth's  history 
which  is  recorded  by  the  geologist.  Nevertheless,  you 
must  not  for  a  moment  suppose,  because  no  such 
transitional    forms    are   known,    that   the    members    c^ 


104  LJr  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEfFS.  [vi. 

the  sub-kingdoms  are  disconnected  from,  or  indepen- 
dent of,  one  another.  On  the  contrary,  in  their  earliest 
condition  they  are  all  alike,  and  the  primordial  germs 
of  a  man,  a  dog,  a  bird,  a  fish,  a  beetle,  a  snail,  and 
a  polype  are,  in  no  essential  structural  respects,  dis- 
tinguishable. 

In  this  broad  sense,  it  may  with  truth  be  said,  that 
all  living  animals,  and  all  those  dead  creations  which 
geology  reveals,  are  bound  together  by  an  all-pervading 
unity  of  organization,  of  the  same  character,  though  not 
equal  in  degree,  to  that  which  enables  lis  to  discern  one 
and  the  same  plan  amidst  the  twenty  different  segments 
of  a  lobster's  body.  Truly  it  has  been  said,  that  to  a 
clear  eye  the  smallest  fact  is  a  window  through  which 
the  Infinite  may  be  seen. 

Turning  from  these  purely  morphological  considera- 
tions, let  us  now  examine  into  the  manner  in  which  the 
attentive  study  of  the  lobster  impels  us  into  other  lines 
of  research. 

Lobsters  are  found  in  all  the  European  seas  ;  but  on 
the  opposite  shores  of  the  Atlantic  and  in  the  seas  of 
the  southern  hemisphere  they  do  not  exist.  They  are, 
however,  represented  in  these  regions  by  very  closely 
allied,  but  distinct  forms — the  Homarsu  Americanus 
and  the  Homarus  Capeusis:  so  that  we  may  say  that 
the  European  has  one  species  of  Homarsu;  the 
American,  another;  the  African,  another;  and  thus 
the  remarkable  facts  of  geographical  distribution  begin 
to  dawn  upon  us. 

Ac^ain,  if  we  examine  the  contents  of  the  earth's  crust 
we  shall  find  in  the  latter  of  those  deposits,  which  have 
served  as  the  great  burying  grounds  of  past  ages,  num- 
berless lobster-like  animals,  but  none  so  similar  to  our 
living  lobster  as  to  make  zoologists  sure  that  they  be- 
longed even  to  the  same  genus.     If  we  go  still  furthei 


VI.]  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOOr,  105 

back  in  time,  we  discover,  in  the  oldest  rocks  of  all,  the 
remains  of  animals,  constructed  on  the  same  general 
plan  as  the  lobster,  and  belonging  to  the  same  great 
group  of  Crustacea ;  but  for  the  most  part  totally 
different  from  the  lobster,  and  indeed  from  any  other 
living  form  of  crustacean  ;  and. thus  we  gain  a  notion  of 
that  successive  change  of  the  animal  population  of  the 
globe,  in  past  ages,  which  is  the  most  striking  fact 
revealed  by  geology. 

Consider,  now,  where  our  inquiries  have  led  us.  We 
studied  our  type  morphologically,  when  we  determined 
its  anatomy  and  its  development,  and  when  comparing 
it,  in  these  respects,  with  other  animals,  we  made  out  its 
place  in  a  system  of  classification.  If  we  were  to 
examine  every  animal  in  a  similar  manner,  we  should 
establish  a  complete  body  of  zoological  morphology. 

Again,  we  investigated  the  distribution  of  our  type  in 
space  and  in  time,  and,  if  the  like  had  been  done  with 
every  animal,  the  sciences  of  geographical  and  geological 
distribution  would  have  attained  their  liuiit. 

But  you  will  observe  one  remarkable  circumstance, 
that,  up  to  this  point,  the  question  of  the  life  of  these 
organisms  has  not  come  under  consideration.  Morpho- 
logy and  distribution  might  be  studied  almost  as  well,  if 
animals  and  plants  were  a  peculiar  kind  of  crystals,  and 
possessed  none  of  those  functions  which  distinguish  living 
beings  so  remarkably.  But  the  facts  of  morphology  and 
distribution  have  to  be  accounted  for,  and  the  science, 
whose  aim  it  is  to  account  for  them,  is  Physiology. 

Let  us  return  to  our  lobster  once  more.  If  we  watched 
the  creature  in  its  native  element,  we  should  see  it  climb- 
ing actively  the  submerged  rocks,  among  which  it  dehghts 
to  live,  by  means  of  its  strong  legs ;  or  swimming  by 
powerful  strokes  of  its  great  tail,  the  appendages  of 
whose  sixth  joint  are  spread  out  into  a  broad  fau-like 


106  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AXB  REVIEWS.  [vi 

propeller :  seize  it,  and  it  will  sliow  you  tliat  its  great 
claws  are  no  mean  weapons  of  offence ;  suspend  a  piece 
of  carrion  among  its  liaunts,  and  it  will  greedily  devour 
it,  tearing  and  crushing  the  flesh  by  means  of  its  multi- 
tudinous jaws. 

Suppose  that  we  had  known  nothing  of  the  lobster 
but  as  an  inert  mass,  anorganic  crystal,  if  I  may  use  the 
phrase,  and  that  v^e  coidd  suddenly  see  it  exerting  all 
these  powers,  what  wonderful  new  ideas  and  new  ques- 
tions would  arise  in  our  minds  !  The  great  new  questioD 
would  be,  ''  How  does  all  this  take  place  ? "  the  chief  new 
idea  would  be,  the  idea  of  adaptation  to  purpose, — the 
notion,  that  the  constituents  of  animal  bodies  are  not 
mere  unconnected  parts,  but  organs  working  together  to 
an  end.  Let  us  consider  the  tail  of  the  lobster  ag^ain 
from  this  point  of  view.  Morphology  has  taught  us 
that  it  is  a  series  of  segments  composed  of  homologous 
parts,  which  undergo  various  modifications — beneath 
and  through  which  a  common  plan  of  formation  is  dis- 
cernible. But  if  I  look  at  the  same  part  physiologicaEy, 
I  see  that  it  is  a  most  beautifully  constructed  organ  ol 
locomotion,  by  means  of  which  the  animal  can  swiftly 
propel  itself  either  backwards  or  forwards. 

But  how  is  this  remarkable  propulsive  machine  made 
to  perform  its  functions  ?  If  I  were  suddenly  to  kill  one 
of  these  animals  and  to  take  out  all  the  soft  parts,  I 
should  find  the  shell  to  be  perfectly  inert,  to  have  no 
more  power  of  moving  itself  than  is  possessed  by  the 
machinery  of  a  mill,  when  disconnected  from  its  steam- 
engine  or  water-wheel.  But  if  I  were  to  open  it,  and 
take  out  the  viscera  only,  leaving  the  white  flesh,  I 
should  perceive  that  the  lobster  could  bend  and  extend 
its  tail  as  well  as  before.  If  I  were  to  cut  off  the  tail,  I 
should  ceaseto  find  any  spontaneous  motion  in  it;  but 
on  pinching  any  portion  of  the  flesh,  I  should  observe 


-l]  on  tee  study  of  zoology.  lOj 

that  it  imderwent  a  very  curious  change — each  fibre  be- 
coming shorter  and  thicker.  By  this  act  of  contraction, 
as  it  is  termed,  the  paiiis  to  which  the  ends  of  the  fibre 
are  attached  are,  of  course,  approximated ;  and  accord- 
ing to  the  relations  of  their  points  of  attachment  to  the 
centres  of  motion  of  the  different  rings,  the  bending  or 
the  extension  of  the  tail  results.  Close  observation  of 
the  newly-opened  lobster  would  soon  show  that  all  its 
movements  are  due  to  the  same  cause — the  shortenino; 
and  thickening  of  these  fleshy  fibres,  which  are  techni- 
cally called  muscles. 

here,  then,  is  a  capital  fact.  The  movements  of  the 
lobster  are  due  to  muscular  contractility.  But  why  does 
a  muscle  contract  at  one  time  and  not  at  another '?  ^hy 
does  one  whole  gTOup  of  muscles  contract  when  the 
lobster  wishes  to  extend  his  tail,  and  another  gTOup 
when  he  desires  to  bend  it  ?  What  is  it  originates, 
directs,  and  controls  the  motive  power  ? 

Experiment,  the  great  instrument  for  the  ascertain 
ment  of  ti^uth  in  physical  science,  answers  this  question 
for  us.  In  the  head  of  the  lobster  there  lies  a  small 
mass  of  that  peculiar  tissue  which  is  known  as  nervous 
substance.  Cords  of  similar  matter  connect  this  brain 
of  the  lobster,  directly  or  indirectly,  T^ith  the  muscles. 
Kow,  if  these  communicating  cords  are  cut,  the  brain 
remaining  entire,  the  power  of  exerting  what  we  call 
voluntary  motion  in  the  parts  below  the  section  is  de- 
stroyed ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  if,  the  cords  remaining 
entire,  the  brain  mass  be  destroyed,  the  same  voluntary 
mobility  is  equally  lost.  Whence  the  inevitable  conclu- 
sion is,  that  the  power  of  originating  these  motions  resides 
in  the  brain,  and  is  propagated  along  the  nervous  cords. 

In  the  higher  animals  the  pheenomena  which  attend 
tliis  transmission  have  been  investio'ated,  and  the  exer- 
tion  of  the  peculiar  energy  which  resides  in  the  nerves 


108  L-^T  >S'EE3iOiVS,  ADDRJESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vi 

has  been  found  to  be  accompanied  by  a  disturbance  of 
tlie  electrical  state  of  tbeir  molecules. 

If  we  could  exactly  estimate  the  signification  of  tbis 
disturbance  ;  if  we  could  obtain  the  value  of  a  given 
exertion  of  nerve  force  by  determining  tbe  quantity  of 
electricity,  or  of  heat,  of  which  it  is  the  equivalent ;  if 
we  could  asscertain  upon  what  arrangement,  or  other 
condition  of  the  molecules  of  matter,  the  manifestation  of 
the  nervous  and  muscular  energies  depends,  (and  doubt- 
less science  will  some  day  or  other  ascertain  these  points,) 
physiologists  would  have  attained  their  ultimate  goal  in 
this  direction ;  they  would  have  determined  the  relation 
of  the  motive  force  of  animals  to  the  other  forms  of  force 
found  in  nature  ;  and  if  the  same  process  had  been  suc- 
cessfully performed  for  all  the  operations  which  are 
carried  on  in,  and  by,  the  animal  frame,  physiology 
would  be  perfect,  and  the  facts  of  morphology  and 
distribution  would  be  deducible  from  the  laws  which 
physiologists  had  established,  combined  with  those  deter- 
mining the  condition  of  the  surrounding  universe. 

There  is  not  a  fragment  of  the  organism  of  this  h amble 
animal,  vdiose  study  would  not  lead  us  into  regions  of 
thought  as  large  as  those  which  I  have  briefly  opened 
up  to  you  ;  but  what  I  have  been  saying,  I  trust,  has  not 
only  enabled  you  to  form  a  conception  of  the  scope  and 
purport  of  zoology,  but  has  given  you  an  imperfect 
example  of  the  manner  in  which,  in  my  opinion  that 
science,  or  indeed  any  physical  science,  may  be'  best 
taught.  The  great  matter  is,  to  make  teaching  real  and 
practical,  by  fixing  the  attention  of  the  student  on  par- 
ticular facts  ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  should  be  rendered 
broad  and  comprehensive,  by  constant  reference  to  the 
generalizations  of  which  all  particular  facts  are  illustra- 
tions. The  lobster  has  served  as  a  type  of  the  whole 
animal  kingdon,  and  its  anatomy  and  physiology  have 


Ti.]  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY.  ;[Q9 

illustrated  for  us  some  of  tlie  greatest  truths  of  l)iology. 
Tlie  student  who  lias  once  seen  for  Mmself  the  facta 
which  I  have  described,  has  had  their  relations  ex- 
plained to  him,  and  has  clearly  comprehended  them, 
has,  so  far,  a  knowledge  of  zoology,  which  is  real  and 
genuine,  however  limited  it  may  be,  and  which  is  worth 
more  than  all  the  mere  reading  knowledge  of  the  science 
he  could  ever  acquire.  His  zoological  information  is,  so 
far,  knowledge  and  not  mere  hearsay. 

And  if  it  were  my  business  to  fit  you  for  the  certi- 
ficate in  zoological  science  granted  by  this  department, 
I  should  pursue  a  course  precisely  similar  in  principle 
to  that  which  I  have  taken  to-night.  I  should  select  a 
fresh-water  sponge,  a  fresh-water  polype  or  a  CyancBe^ 
a  fresh- water  mussel,  a  lobster,  a  fowl,  as  types  of  the 
^YQ  primary  divisions  of  the  animal  kingdom.  I  should 
explain  their  structure  very  fully,  and  show  how  each 
illustrated  the  great  principles  of  zoology.  Having 
gone  very  carefully  and  fully  over  this  ground,  I  should 
feel  that  you  had  a  safe  foundation,  and  I  should  then 
take  you  in  the  same  way,  but  less  minutely,  over 
similarly  selected  illustrative  types  of  the  classes;  and 
then  I  should  direct  your  attention  to  the  special  forms 
enumerated  under  the  head  of  types,  in  this  syllabus, 
and  to  the  other  facts  there  mentioned. 

That  would,  speaking  generally,  be  my  plan.  But 
I  have  undertaken  to  explain  to  you  the  best  mode  of 
acquiring  and  communicating  a  knowledge  of  zoology, 
and  you  may  therefore  fairly  ask  me  for  a  more  de- 
tailed and  precise  account  of  the  manner  in  which  1 
should  propose  to  furnish  you  with  the  information  I 
refer  to. 

My  own  impression  is,  that  the  best  model  for  all 
kinds  of  training  in  physical  science  is  that  afforded 
by   the   method  of  teaching   anatomy,  in  use  in  the 

"^6 


110  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEWB.  [i^i, 

medical  sehools.  This  metliod  consists  of  three  elements 
— lectures,  demonstrations,  and   examinations. 

The  object  of  lectures  is,  in  the  first  place,  to  awaken 
the  attention  and  excite  the-  enthusiasm  of  the  student ; 
and  this,  I  am  sure,  may  be  effected  to  a  far  greater 
extent  by  the  oral  discourse  and  by  the  personal  influence 
of  a  respected  teacher  than  in  any  other  way.  Secondly, 
lectures  have  the  double  use  of  guiding  the  student 
to  the  salient  points  of  a  subject,  and  at  the  same 
time  forcing  him  to  attend  to  the  whole  of  it,  and  not 
merely  to  that  part  which  takes  his  fancy.  And  lastly, 
lectures  afford  the  student  the  opportunity  of  seeking 
explanations  of  those  difficulties  which  will,  and  indeed 
ought  to,  arise  in  the  course  of  his  studies. 

But  for  a  student  to  derive  the  utmost  possible  value 
from  lectures,  several  precautions  are  needful. 

I  have  a  strong  impression  that  the  better  a  discourse 
is,  as  an  oration,  the  worse  it  is  as  a  lecture.  The  flow 
of  the  discourse  carries  you  on  without  proper  atten- 
tion to  its  sense ;  you  drop  a  word  or  a  phrase,  you 
lose  the  exact  meaning  for  a  moment,  and  while  you 
strive  to  recover  yourself,  the  speaker  has  passed  on 
to  something  else. 

The  practice  I  have  adopted  of  late  years,  in  lecturing 
to  students,  is  to  condense  the  substance  of  the  hour's 
discourse  into  a  few  dry  propositions,  which  are  read 
slowly  "jand  taken  down  from  dictation ;  the  reading  of 
each  being  followed  by  a  free  commentary,  expanding 
and  illustrating  the  proposition,  explaining  terms,  and 
removing  any  difficulties  that  may  be  attackable  in 
tliat  way,  by  diagrams  made  roughly,  and  seen  to 
grow  under  the  lecturers  hand.  In  this  manner  you, 
at  any  rate,  insure  the  co-operation  of  the  student  to 
a  certain  extent.  He  cannot  leave  the  lecture-room 
entirely  empty  if  the  taking  of  notes  is  enforced  ;  and 


vi.J  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY,  \  1  ] 

a  student  must  be  preternaturally  dull  and  mechanical, 
if  he  can  takes  notes  and  hear  them  properly  explained, 
and  yet  learn  nothing. 

What  books  shall  I  read  ?  is  a  question  constantly 
put  by  the  student  to  the  teacher.  My  reply  usually  is, 
"  None  :  write  your  notes  out  carefully  and  fully ;  strive 
to  understand  them  thoroughly  ;  come  to  me  for  the 
explanation  of  anything  you  cannot  understand;  and 
I  would  rather  you  did  not  distract  your  mind  by 
reading."  A  properly  composed  course  of  lectures 
ought  to  contain  fully  as  much  matter  as  a  student 
can  assimilate  in  the  time  occupied  by  its  delivery ;  and 
the  teacher  should  always  recollect  that  his  business  is 
to  feed,  and  not  to  cram  the  intellect.  Indeed,  I  believe 
that  a  student  who  gains  from  a  course  of  lectures 
the  simple  habit  of  concentrating  his  attention  upon 
a  definitely  limited  series  of  facts,  until  they  are 
thoroughly  mastered,  has  made  a  step  of  immeasurable 
importance. 

But,  however  good  lectures  may  be,  and  however 
extensive  the  course  of  reading  by  which  they  are 
follovfed  up,  they  are  but  accessories  to  the  great  in- 
strument of  scientific  teaching; — demonstration.  If  I 
insist  unweariedly,  nay  fanatically,  upon  the  importance 
of  physical  science  as  an  educational  agent,  it  is  because 
the  study  of  any  branch  of  science,  if  properly  conducted, 
appears  to  me  to  fill  up  a  void  left  by  all  other  means 
of  education.  I  have  the  greatest  respect  and  love  for 
literature ;  nothing  would  grieve  me  more  than  to  see 
literary  training  other  than  a  very  prominent  branch  of 
education :  indeed,  I  wish  that  real  literary  discij)line 
were  far  more  attended  to  than  it  is  ;  but  I  cannot 
shut  my  eyes  to  the  fact,  that  there  is  a  vast  difi'erence 
between  men  who  have  had  a  purely  literary,  and  those 
who  have  had  a  sound  scientific,  training. 


112  LAY  SERMONS,  AT) DRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ti. 

Seeking  for  tlie  cause  of  this  difference,  I  imagine  1 
can  find  it  in  the  fact,  that,  in  the  world  of  letters, 
learning  and  knowledge  are  one,  and  books  are  the 
source  of  both ;  whereas  in  science,  as  in  life,  learning 
and  knowledge  are  distinct,  and  the  study  of  things, 
and  not  of  books,  is  the  source  of  the  latter. 

All  that  literature  has  to  bestow  may  be  obtained 
by  reading  and  by  practical  exercise  in  writing  and 
in  speaking  ;  but  I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  say,  that 
none  of  the  best  gifts  of  science  are  to  be  won  by  these 
means.  On  the  contrary,  the  great  benefit  which  a 
scientific  education  bestows,  whether  as  training  or  as 
knowledge,  is  dependent  upon  the  extent  to  which  the 
mind  of  the  student  is  brought  into  immediate  contact 
with  facts — upon  the  degree  to  which  he  learns  the 
habit  of  appealing  directly  to  Nature,  and  of  acquiring 
through  his  senses  concrete  images  of  those  properties 
of  things,  which  are,  and  always  will  be,  but  approxi- 
matively  expressed  in  human  iangiiage.  Our  way.  of 
looking  at  Nature,  and  of  speaking  about  her,  varies 
from  year  to  year ;  but  a  fact  once  seen,  a  relation  of 
cause  and  effect,  once  demonstratively  apprehended,  are 
possessions  which  neither  change  nor  pass  away,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  form  fixed  centres,  about  which  other 
truths  aggregate  by  natural  affinity. 

Therefore,  the  great  business  of  the  scientific  teacher 
is,  to  imprint  the  fundamental,  irrefragable  facts  of  his 
science,  not  only  by  words  upon  the  mind,  but  by 
sensible  impressions  upon  the  eye,  and  ear,  and  touch 
of  the  student,  in  so  complete  a  manner,  that  e'very 
term  used,  or  law  enunciated,  should  afterwards  call 
up  vivid  images  of  the  particular  structural,  or  other, 
facts  which  furnished  the  demonstration  of  the  law,  or 
the  illustration  of  the  term. 

Now  this  important  operation  can  only  be  achieved 


vl]  on  tee  study  of  zoology,  1 13 

by  constant  demonstration,  wliicli  may  take  place  to 
a  certain  imperfect  extent  dnring  a  lecture,  but  which 
ought  also  to  be  carried  on  independently,  and  which 
should  be  addressed  to  each  individual  student,  the 
teacher  endeavouring,  not  so  much  to  show  a  thing  to 
the  learner,  as  to  make  him  see  it  for  himself. 

I  am  well  aware  that  there  are  great  practical  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  of  effectual  zoological  demonstrations. 
The  dissection  of  animals  is  not  altogether  pleasant, 
and  requires  much  time ;  nor  is  it  easy  to  secure  an 
adequate  supply  of  the  needful  specim^ens.  The  botanist 
has  here  a  great  advantage ;  his  specimens  are  easily 
obtained,  are  clean  and  wholesome,  and  can  be  dissected 
in  a  private  house  as  well  as  anywhere  else ;  and 
hence,  I  believe,  the  fact,  that  botany  is  so  much 
more  readily  and  better  taught  than  its  sister  science. 
But,  be  it  difficult  or  be  it  easy,  if  zoological  science 
is  to  be  properly  studied,  demonstration,  and,  con- 
sequently, dissection,  must  be  had.  Without  it,  no 
man  can  have  a  really  sound  knowledge  of  animal 
organization. 

A  good  deal  may  be  done,  however,  without  actual 
dissection  on  the  student's  part,  by  demonstration  upon 
specimens  and  preparations  ;  and  in  all  probability  it 
would  not  be  very  difficult,  were  the  demand  sufficient, 
to  organize  collections  of  such  objects,  sufficient  for  all 
the  purposes  of  elementary  teaching,  at  a  comparatively 
cheap  rate.  Even  without  these,  much  might  be  effected, 
if  the  zoological  collections,  which  are  open  to  the 
public,  were  arranged  according  to  what  has  been 
termed  the  "  typical  principle  ; ''  that  is  to  say,  if  the 
specimens  exposed  to  public  view  were  so  selected,  that 
the  public  could  learn  something  from  them,  instead 
of  being,  as  at  present,  merely  confused  by  their  mul- 
tiplicity.    For  example,  the  grand  ornithological  gallery 


114  LAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ly. 

at  the  British.  Museum  contains  between  two  and  three 
thousand  species  of  birds,  and  sometimes  five  or  six 
specimens  of  a  species.  They  are  very  pretty  to  look 
at,  and  some  of  the  cases  are,  indeed,  splendid ;  but 
I  will  undertake  to  say,  that  no  man  but  a  professed 
ornithologist  has  ever  gathered  much  information  from 
the  collection.  Certainly,  no  one  of  the  tens  of  thousands 
of  the  general  public  who  have  walked  through  that 
gallery  ever  knew  more  about  the  essential  peculiarities 
of  birds  when  he  left  the  gallery,  than  when  he  entered 
it.  But  if,  somewhere  in  that  vast  hall,  there  were  a 
few  preparations,  exemplifying  the  leading  structural 
peculiarities  and  the  mode  of  development  of  a  common 
fowl ;  if  the  types  of  the  genera,  the  leading  modifi- 
cations in  the  skeleton,  in  the  plumage  at  various  ages, 
in  the  mode  of  nidification,  and  the  like,  among  birds, 
were  displayed;  and  if  the  other  specimens  were  put 
away  in  a  place  where  the  men  of  science,  to  whom 
they  are  alone  useful,  could  have  free  access  to  them, 
I  can  conceive  that  this  collection  might  become  a 
great  instrument  of   scientific  education. 

The  last  implement  of  the  teacher  to  which  I  have 
adverted  is  examination — a  means  of  education  now  so 
thoroughly  understood  that  I  need  hardly  enlarge  upon 
it.  I  hold  that  both  written  and  oral  examinations 
are  indispensable,  and,  by  requiring  the  description 
of  specimens,  they  may  be  made  to  supplement 
demonstration. 

Such  is  the  fullest  reply  the  time  at  my  disposal 
will  allow  me  to  give  to  the  question — how  may  a  know- 
ledge of  zoology  be  best  acquired  and  communicated  ? 

But  there  is  a  previous  question  which  may  be  moved, 
and  which,  in  fact,  I  know  many  are  inclined  to  move. 
It  is  the  question,  wliy  should  training  masters  be 
encouraged  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  this,  or  any  other 


Ti.]  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY.  115 

brancli  of  pliysical  science  ?  What  is  tlie  use,  it  is  said, 
of  attempting  to  make  pliysical  science  a  brancli  of 
primary  education  ?  Is  it  not  probable  that  teachers, 
in  pursuing  such  studies,  will  be  led  astray  from  the 
acquirement  of  more  important  but  less  attractive 
knowledge  ?  And,  even  if  they  can  learn  something 
of  science  without  prejudice  to  their  usefulness,  what 
is  the  good  of  their  attempting  to  instil  that  knowledge 
into  boys  whose  real  business  is  the  acquisition  of 
reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic  ? 

These  questions  are,  and  will  be,  very  commonly 
asked,  for  they  arise  from  that  profound  ignorance  of 
the  value  and  true  position  of  physical  science,  which 
infests  the  minds  of  the  most  highly  educated  and 
intelligent  classes  of  the  community.  But  if  I  did  not 
feel  well  assured  that  they  are  capable  of  being  easily 
and  satisfactorily  answered ;  that  they  have  been  an- 
swered over  and  over  again ;  and  that  the  time  will 
come  when  men  of  liberal  education  will  blush  to  raise 
such  questions, — I  should  be  ashamed  of  my  position 
here  to-night.  Without  doubt,  it  is  your  great  and  very 
important  function  to  carry  out  elementary  education ; 
without  question,  anything  that  should  interfere  with 
the  faithful  fulfilment  of  that  duty  on  your  part  would 
be  a  great  evil ;  and  if  I  thought  that  your  acquirement 
of  the  elements  of  physical  science,  and  your  communi- 
cation of  those  elements  to  your  pupils,  involved  any 
sort  of  interference  with  your  proper  duties,  I  should 
be  the  first  person  to  protest  against  your  being  en- 
couraged to  do  anything  of  the  kind. 

But  is  it  true  that  the  acquisition  of  such  a  know- 
ledge of  science  as  is  proposed,  and  the  communication 
of  that  knowledge,  are  calculated  to  weaken  your  use- 
fulness ?  Or  may  I  not  rather  ask,  is  it  possible  for  you 
to  discharge  your  functions  properly  without  these  aids  1 


116  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [vl 

What  is  tlie  purpose  of  primary  intellectual  educa- 
tion ?  I  apprehend  that  its  first  object  is  to  train  the 
young  in  the  use  of  those  tools  wherewith  men  extract 
knowledge  from  the  ever-shifting  succession  of  phseno- 
mena  which  pass  before  their  eyes ;  and  that  its  second 
object  is  to  inform  them  of  the  fundamental  laws  which 
have  been  found  by  experience  to  govern  the  course  of 
things,  so  that  they  may  not  be  turned  out  into  the. 
world  naked,  defenceless,  and  a  prey  to  the  events  they 
might  control. 

A  boy  is  taught  to  read  his  own  and  other  languages, 
in  order  that  he  may  have  access  to  infinitely  wider 
stores  of  knowledge  than  could  ever  be  opened  to  him 
by  oral  intercourse  with  his  fellow  men  ;  he  learns  to 
write,  that  his  means  of  communication  with  the  rest  of 
mankind  may  be  indefinitely  enlarged,  and  that  he  may 
record  and  store  up  the  knowledge  he  acquires.  He 
is  taught  elementary  mathematics,  that  he  may  under- 
stand all  those  relations  of  number  and  form,  upon 
which  the  transactions  of  men,  associated  in  complicated 
societies,  are  built,  and  that  he  may  have  some  praptice 
in  deductive  reasoning. 

All  these  operations  of  reading,  writing,  and  ciphering, 
are  intellectual  tools,  whose  use  should,  before  ail  things, 
be  learned,  and  learned  thoroughly ;  so  that  the  youth 
may  be  enabled  to  make  his  life  that  which  it  ought  to 
be,  a  continual  progress  in  learning  and  in  wisdom. 

But,  in  addition,  primary  education  endeavours  to  fit 
a  boy  out  with  a  certain  equipment  of  positive  know- 
ledge. He  is  taught  the  great  laws  of  morality;  the 
religion  of  his  sect ;  so  much  history  and  geography  as 
will  tell  him  where  the  great  countries  of  the  world 
are,  what  they  are,  and  how  they  have  become  what 
they  are, 

"Witliout   doubt   all  these   are   most  fitting   and   ex- 


VI.]  CN  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY,  117 

cellcnt  tilings  to  teacli  a  boy ;  I  should  be  very  sorry 
to  omit  any  of  tliem  from  any  scheme  of  primary  in- 
tellectual education.  The  system  is  excellent,  so  far  as 
it  2:oes. 

But  if  I  regard  it  closely,  a  curious  reflection  arises. 
I  suppose  that,  fifteen  hundred  years  ago,  the  child  of 
any  well-to-do  Koman  citizen  was  taught  just  these 
same  things ;  reading  and  writing  in  his  own,  and,  per- 
haps, the  Greek  tongue ;  the  elements  of  mathematics ; 
and  the  religion,  morality,  history,  and  geography  cur- 
rent in  his  time.  Furthermore,  I  do  not  think  I  err 
in  affirming,  that,  if  such  a  Christian  Eoman  boy,  who 
had  finished  his  education,  could  be  transplanted  into 
one  of  our  public  schools,  and  pass  through  its  course  of 
instruction,  he  would  not  meet  with  a  single  u.nfamiliar 
line  of  thought;  amidst  all  the  new  facts  he  would 
have  to  learn,  not  one  would  suggest  a  different  mode 
of  regarding  the  universe  from  that  current  in  his 
own  time. 

And  yet  surely  there  is  some  great  difference  between 
the  civilization  of  the  fourth  century  and  that  of  the 
nineteenth,  and  still  more  between  the  intellectual  habits 
and  tone  of  thought  of  that  day  and  this  1 

And  what  has  made  this  difference  1  I  answer  fear- 
lessly,— The  prodigious  developiTxCnt  of  physical  science 
within  the  last  two  centuries. 

Modern  civilization  rests  upon  physical  science ;  take 
away  her  gifts  to  our  own  country,  and  our  position 
among  the  leading  nations  of  the  world  is  gone  to- 
morrow ;  for  it  is  physical  science  only,  that  makes 
intelligence  and  moral  energy  stronger  than  brute  force. 

The  whole  of  modern  thought  is  steeped  in  science  ;  it 
has  made  its  way  into  the  works  of  our  best  poets,  and 
even  the  mere  man  of  letters,  who  affects  to  ignore  and 
despise  science,  is  unconsciously  impregnated  with  her 


118  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vi 

spirit,  and  indebted  for  his  best  products  to  ber  methods. 
I  believe  that  the  greatest  intellectual  revolution  man- 
kind has  yet  seen  is  now  slowly  taking  place  by  her 
agency.  She  is  teaching  the  world  that  the  ultimate 
court  of  appeal  is  observation  and  experiment,  and  not 
authority ;  she  is  teaching  it  to  estimate  the  value  of 
evidence  ;  she  is  creating  a  firm  and  living  faith  in  the 
existence  of  immutable  moral  and  physical  laws,  perfect 
obedience  to  which  is  the  highest  possible  aim  of  an 
intelligent  being. 

But  of  all  this  your  old  stereotyped  system  of  educa- 
tion takes  no  note.  Physical  science,  its  methods,  its 
problems,  and  its  difficulties,  will  meet  the  poorest  boy 
at  every  turn,  and  yet  we  educate  him  in  such  a  manner 
that  he  shall  enter  the  world  as  ignorant  of  the  existence 
of  the  methods  and  facts  of  science  as  the  clay  he  was 
born.  The  modern  world  is  full  of  artillery ;  and  we 
turn  out  our  children  to  do  battle  in  it,  equipped  with 
the  shield  and  sword  of  an  ancient  gladiator. 

Posterity  will  cry  shame  on  us  if  we  do  not  remedy 
this  deplorable  state  of  things.  Nay,  if  we  live  twenty 
years  longer,  our  own  consciences  will  cry  shame  on  us. 

It  is  my  firm  conviction  that  the  only  way  to  remedy 
it  is,  to  make  the  elements  of  physical  science  an  integral 
part  of  primary  education.  I  have  endeavoured  to  show 
you  how  that  may  be  done  for  that  branch  of  science 
which  it  is  my  business  to  pursue ;  and  I  can  but  add, 
that  I  should  look  upon  the  day  when  every  school- 
master throughout  this  land  was  a  centre  of  genuine, 
however  rudimentary,  scientific  knowledge,  as  an  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  country. 

But  let  me  entreat  you  to  remember  my  last  words. 
A^ddressing  myself  to  you,  as  teachers,  I  would  say,  mere 
book  learning  in  physical  science  is  a  sham  and  a 
delusion — what  you  teach,  unless  you  wish  to  be  impos- 


VI,]  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  ZOOLOGY.  119 

tors,  tliat  yoia  must  first  know;  and  real  knowledge  in 
science  means  personal  acquaintance  with  the  facts,  be 
they  few  or  many.^ 

*  It  has  been  suggested  to  me  that  these  words  may  be  taken  to  imply 
a  discouragement  on  my  part  of  any  sort  of  scientific  instruction  which 
does  not  give  an  acquaintance  with  the  facts  at  first  hand.  But  this  is 
not  my  meaning.  The  ideal  of  scientific  teaching  is,  no  doubt,  a  system 
by  which  the  scholar  sees  every  fact  for  himself,  and  the  teacher  suj)plies 
only  the  explanations.  Circumstances,  however,  do  not  often  allow  of  the 
attainment  of  that  ideal,  and  we  must  put  up  with  the  next  best  system — 
one  in  which  the  scholar  takes  a  good  deal  on  trust  from  a  teacher,  who, 
knowing  the  facts  by  his  own  knowledge,  can  describe  them  with  so  much 
vividness  as  to  enable  his  audience  to  form  competent  ideas  concerning 
them.  The  system  which  I  repudiate  is  that  which  allows  teachers  who 
have  not  come  into  direct  contact  with  the  leading  facts  of  a  science  to  pass 
their  second-hand  information  on.  The  scientific  virus,  like  vaccine  lymph, 
if  passed  through  too  long  a  succession  of  organisms,  will  lose  all  its  effect 
in  protecting  the  young  against  the  intellectual  epidemics  to  which  thej7  are 
exposed- 


ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE."^ 

In  order  to  make  tlie  title  of  this  discourse  generally 
intelligible,  I  have  translated  tlie  term  '^ 'Protoplasm/' 
which  is  the  scientific  name  of  the  substance  of  wliich  I 
am  about  to  speak,  by  the  words  "the  physical  basis  of 
life."  I  suppose  that,  to  many,  the  idea  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  physical  basis,  or  matter,  of  life  may 
l3e  novel — so  widely  spread  is  the  conception  of  life  as  a 
sometliing  which  works  through  matter,  but  is  independent 
of  it ;  and  even  those  who  are  aware  that  matter  and 
life  are  inseparably  connected,  may  not  be  prepared  for 
the  conclusion  plainly  suggested  by  the  phrase,  ^'the 
physical  basis  or  matter  of  life,"  that  there  is  some  one 
kind  of  matter  which  is  common  to  all  living  beings, 
and  that  their  endless  diversities  are  bound  together  by 
a  physical,  as  well  as  an  ideal,  unity.     In  fact,  when  first 

^  The  substance  of  this  paper  was  contained  in  a  discourse  which  was 
delivered  in  Edinburgh  on  the  evening  of  Sunday,  the  8th  of  November, 
1868 — being  the  first  of  a  series  of  Sunday  evening  addresses  upon  non- 
theological  topics,  instituted  by  the  Eev.  J.  Cranbrook.  Some  phrases,  which 
could  possess  only  a  transitory  and  local  interest,  have  been  omitted  ; 
instead  of  the  newspaper  report  of  the  Archbishop  of  York's  address,  his 
Grace's  subsequently-published  pamphlet  ''On  the  Limits  of  Philosophical 
Inquiry"  is  quoted;  and  I  have,  here  and  there,  endeavoured  to  express  my 
meaning  more  fully  and  clearly  than  I  seem  to  have  done  in  speaking — if  I 
may  judge  by  sundry  criticisms  upon  what  I  am  supposed  to  have  said,  which 
have  appeared.  But  in  substance,  and,  so  far  as  my  recollection  serves,  in 
form,  what  is  here  written  corresponds  with  what  was  there  said. 


Til.]  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  121 

appreli ended,  sucli  a  doctrine  as  tliis  appears  almost 
shocking  to  common  sense. 

What,  truly,  can  seem  to  be  more  ob^donsly  different 
from  one  another,  in  faculty,  in  form,  and  in  snbstancC; 
than  the  various  kinds  of  living  beings  ?  What  community 
of  faculty  can  there  be  between  the  brightly- coloured 
lichen,  which  so  nearly  resembles  a  mere  mineral  in- 
crustation of  the  bare  rock  on  which  it  grows,  and  the 
painter,  to  wdiom  it  is  instinct  with  beauty,  or  the 
botanist,  whom  it  feeds  with  knowledge  ? 

Again,  think  of  the  microscopic  fungus — a  mere  infi- 
nitesimal ovoid  particle,  which  finds  space  and  duration 
enough  to  multiply  into  countless  millions  in  the  body 
of  a  living  fly  ;  and  then  of  the  wealth  of  foliage,  the 
luxuriance  of  flower  and  fruit,  which  lies  between  this 
bald  sketch  of  a  plant  and  the  giant  pine  of  California, 
towering  to  the  climensions  of  a  cathedral  spire,  or  the 
Indian  fig,  which  covers  acres  with  its  profound  shadow, 
and  endures  while  nations  and  empires  come  and  go 
around  its  vast  circumference.  Or,  turning  to  the  other 
half  of  the  world  of  life,  picture  to  yourselves  the  great 
Finner  whale,  hugest  of  beasts  that  live,  or  have  lived, 
disporting  his  eighty  or  ninety  feet  of  bone,  muscle,  and 
blubber,  Avith  easy  roll,  among  waves  in  which  the 
stoutest  ship  that  ever  left  dockyard  would  founder 
hopelessly;  and  contrast  him  with  the  invisible  animal- 
cules—-mere  gelatinous  specks,  multitudes  of  which  could, 
in  fact,  dance  upon  the  point  of  a  needle  with  the  same 
ease  as  the  angels  of  the  Schoolmen  could,  in  imagination. 
With  these  images  before  your  minds,  you  may  well  ask, 
what  community  of  form,  or  structure,  is  there  between 
the  animalcule  and  the  whale  ;  or  between  the  fungus  and 
the  fig-tree  ?     And,  ct  fortiori,  between  all  four  ? 

Finally,  if  w^e  regard  substance,  or  material  composi- 
tion, what  hidden  bond  can  connect  the  flower  which  a 


122  LJF  SHRMONS,  ADBRUSSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vil 

girl  wears  in  her  liair  and  the  blood  which  courses 
through  her  youthful  veins  ;  or,  what  is  there  in  common 
between  the  dense  and  resisting  mass  of  the  oak,  or  the 
strong  fabric  of  the  tortoise,  and  those  broad  disks  of 
glassy  jelly  which  may  be  seen  pulsating  through  the 
waters  of  a  calm  sea,  but  which  drain  away  to  mere  films 
in  the  hand  which  raises  them  out  of  their  element  ? 

Such  objections  as  these  must,  I  think,  arise  in  the 
mind  of  every  one  who  ponders,  for  the  first  time,  upon 
the  conception  of  a  single  physical  basis  of  life  under- 
lying all  the  diversities  of  vital  existence  ;  but  I  propose 
to  demonstrate  to  you  that,  notwithstanding  these 
apparent  difficulties,  a  threefold  unity — namely,  a  unity 
of  power  or  faculty,  a  unity  of  form,  and  a  unity  of 
substantial  composition — does  pervade  the  whole  living 
world. 

No  very  abstruse  argumentation  is  needed,  in  the  first 
place,  to  prove  that  the  powers,  or  faculties,  of  all  kinds 
of  living  matter,  diverse  as  they  may  be  in  degree,  are 
substantially  similar  in  kind. 

Goethe  has  condensed  a  survey  of  all  the  powers  of 
mankind  into  the  well-known  epigram  : — 

"  Wariim  treibt  sich  das  Volk  so  und  schreit  ?  Es  will  sich  ernalireii 
Kinder  zeugen,  und  die  naliren  so  gut  es  vermag. 
***** 
Weiter  bringt  es  kein  Mensch,  stell'  er  sicb.  wie  er  auch  wilL" 

In  physiological  language  this  means,  that  all  the 
multifarious  and  complicated  activities  of  man  are 
comprehensible  under  three  categories.  Either  they  are 
immediately  directed  towards  the  maintenance  and  deve- 
lopment of  the  body,  or  they  efi'ect  transitory  changes 
in  the  relative  positions  of  parts  of  the  body,  or  they  tend 
towards  the  continuance  of  the  species.  "Even  those  mani- 
festations of  intellect,  of  feeling,  and  of  will,  which  we 


m.]  ON  THJE  FHTSICAL  BASIS  OF  LTFK  123 

riglitly  name  tile  liigher  faculties,  are  not  excluded  from 
tliis  classification,  inasmuch  as  to  every  one  but  the  subject 
of  them,  they  are  known  only  as  transitory  changes  in 
the  relative  positions  of  parts  of  the  body.  Speech, 
gesture,  and  every  other  form  of  human  action  are,  in 
the  long  run,  resolvable  into  muscular  contraction,  and 
muscular  contraction  is  but  a  transitory  change  in  the 
relative  positions  of  the  parts  of  a  muscle.  But  the 
scheme  which  is  large  enough  to  embrace  the  activities 
of  the  highest  form  of  life,  covers  all  those  of  the  lower 
creatures.  The  lowest  plant,  or  animalcule,  feeds,  grows, 
and  reproduces  its  kind.  In  addition,  all  animals  manifest 
those  transitory  changes  of  form  which  we  class  under 
irritability  and  contractility ;  and,  it  is  more  than 
probable,  that  when  the  vegetable  world  is  thoroughly 
explored,  we  shall  find  all  plants  in  possession  of  the 
same  powers,  at  one  time  or  other  of  their  existence. 
I  am  not  now  alluding  to  such  phsonomena,  at  once 
rare  and  conspicuous,  as  those  exhibited  by  the  leaflets 
of  the  sensitive  plant,  or  the  stamens  of  the  barberry, 
but  to  much  more  widely-spread,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
more  subtle  and  hidden,  manifestations  of  vegetable 
contractility.  You  are  doubtless  aware  that  the  common 
nettle  owes  its  stinging  property  to  the  innumerable  stiil 
and  needJe-like,  though  exquisitely  delicate,  hairs  which 
cover  its  surface.  Each  stinging-needle  tapers  from  a 
broad  base  to  a  slender  summit,  which,  though  rounded 
at  the  end,  is  of  such  microscopic  fineness  that  it  readily 
penetrates,  and  breaks  off  in,  the  skin.  The  whole  hair 
consists  of  a  very  delicate  outer  case  of  wood,  closely 
applied  to  the  inner  surface  of  which  is  a  layer  of  semi- 
fluid matter,  full  of  innumerable  granules  of  extreme 
minuteness.  This  semi-fluid  lining  is  protoplasm,  which 
thus  constitutes  a  kind  of  bag,  full  of  a  limpid  liquid, 
and  roughly  corresponding  in  form  with  the  interior  of 


124  LAY  SER2I0NS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [rii 

the  liair  whicli  it  fills.  When  viewed  with  a  sufficiently 
high  magnifying  power,  the  protoplasmic  layer  of  the 
nettle  hair  is  seen  to  be  in  a  condition  of  unceasing 
activity.  Local  contractions  of  the  whole  thickness  of 
its  substance  pass  slowly  and  gradually  from  point  to 
point,  and .  give  rise  to  the  appearance  of  progressive 
waves,  just  as  the  bending  of  successive  stalks  of  corn  by 
a  breeze  produces  the  apparent  billows  of  a  corn-field. 

But,  in  addition  to  these  movements,  and  independently 
of  them,  the  granules  are  driven,  in  relatively  rapid 
streams,  through  channels  in  the  protoplasm  which  seem 
to  have  a  considerable  amount  of  persistence.  Most 
commonly,  the  currents  in  adjacent  parts  of  the  proto- 
plasm take  similar  directions ;  and,  thus,  there  is  a 
general  stream  up  one  side  of  the  hair  and  down  the 
other.  But  this  does  not  prevent  the  existence  of  partial 
currents  which  take  different  routes  ;  and,  sometimes, 
trains  of  granules  may  be  seen  coursing  swiftly  in 
opposite  directions,  within  a  twenty-thousandth  of  an 
inch  of  one  another  ;  while,  occasionally,  opposite  streams 
come  into  direct  collision,  and,  after  a  longer  or  shorter 
struggle,  one  predominates.  The  cause  of  these  currents 
seems  to  lie  in  contractions  of  the  protoplasm  which 
bounds  the  channels  in  which  they  flow,  but  which  are 
so  minute  that  the  best  microscopes  show  only  their 
eff'ects,  and  not  themselves. 

The  spectacle  afibrded  by  the  wonderful  energies 
prisoned  within  the  compass  of  the  microscopic  hair 
of  a  plant,  which  we  commonly  regard  as  a  merely 
passive  organism,  is  not  easily  forgotten  by  one  who  has 
watched  its  display,  continued  hour  after  hour,  without 
pause  or  sign  of  weakening.  The  possible  complexity 
of  many  other  organic  forms,  seemingly  as  simple  as 
the  protoplasm  of  the  nettle,  dawns  upon  one;  and  the 
comparison   of  such  a    protoplasm   to  a  body  with  an 


vii.J  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  125 

internal  circulation,  wliich  has  been  put  forward  by  an 
eminent  pliysiologist,  loses  much  of  its  startling  character. 
Currents  similar  to  those  of  the  hairs  of  the  nettle  have 
been  observed  in  a  great  multitude  of  very  different 
plants,  and  weighty  authorities  have  suggested  that  they 
probably  occur,  in  more  or  less  perfection,  in  all  young 
vegetable  cells.  If  such  be  the  case,  the  wonderful 
noonday  silence  of  a  tropical  forest  is,  after  all,  due  only 
to  the  dulness  of  our  hearing ;  and  could  our  ears  catch 
the  murmur  of  these  tiny  Maelstroms,  as  they  whirl  in 
the  innumerable  myriads  of  living  cells  which  constitute 
each  tree,  we  should  be  stunned,  as  with  the  roar  of 
a  great  city. 

Among  the  lower  plants,  it  is  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception,  that  contractility  should  be  still  more  openly 
manifested  at  some  periods  of  their  existence.  The 
protoplasm  of  AlgcB  and  Fungi  becomes,  under  many 
circumstances,  partially,  or  completely,  freed  from  its 
woody  case,  and  exhibits  movements  of  its  whole  mass, 
or  is  propelled  by  the  contractility  of  one,  or  more,  hair- 
like prolongations  of  its  body,  which  are  called  vibratile 
cilia.  And,  so  far  as  the  conditions  of  the  manifestation 
of  the  phsenomena  of  contractility  have  yet  been  studied, 
they  are  the  same  for  the  plant  as  for  the  animal.  Heat 
and  electric  shocks  influence  both,  and  in  the  same  way, 
though  it  may  be  in  difierent  degrees.  It  is  by  no  means 
my  intention  to  suggest  that  there  is  no  difference  in 
faculty  between  the  lowest  plant  and  the  highest,  or 
betv/een  plants  and  animals.  But  the  difference  between 
the  powers  of  the  lowest  plant,  or  animal,  and  those  of 
the  highest,  is  one  of  degree,  not  of  kind,  and  depends, 
as  Milne-Edwards  long  ago  so  well  pointed  out,  upon 
the  extent  to  which  the  principle  of  the  division  of 
labour  is  carried  out  in  the  living  economy.  In  the 
lowest  organism  all  parts  are  competent  to  perform  ail 


126  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vii 

functions,  and  one  and  tlie  same  portion  of  proto- 
plasm may  successively  take  on  the  function  of  feeding, 
moving,  or  reproducing  apparatus.  In  tlie  liigliest,  on 
the  contrary,  a  great  number  of  parts  combine  to  per- 
form each  function,  each  part  doing  its  allotted  share  of 
the  work  with  great  accuracy  and  efficiency,  but  being 
useless  for  any  other  purpose. 

On  the  other  hand,  notwithstanding  all  the  funda- 
mental resemblances  which  exist  between  the  powers  of 
the  protoplasm  in  plants  and  in  animals,  they  present 
a  striking  difference  (to  which  I  shall  advert  more  at 
length  presently),  in  the  fact  that  plants  can  manufacture 
fresh  protoplasm  out  of  mineral  compounds,  whereas 
animals  are  obliged  to  procure  it  ready  made,  and  hence, 
in  the  long  run,  depend  upon  plants.  Upon  what  con- 
dition this  difference  in  the  powers  of  the  two  great 
divisions  of  the  world  of  life  depends,  nothing  is  at 
present  known. 

With  such  qualification  as  arises  out  of  the  last- 
mentioned  fact,  it  may  be  truly  said  that  the  acts  of  all 
living  things  are  fundamentally  one.  Is  any  such  unity 
predicable  of  their  forms  ?  Let  us  seek  in  easily  verified 
facts  for  a  reply  to  this  question.  If  a  drop  of  blood  be 
drawn  by  pricking  one's  finger,  and  viewed  with  proper 
precautions  and  under  a  sufficiently  high  microscopic 
power,  there  will  be  seen,  among  the  innumerable  mul- 
titude of  little,  cncular,  discoidal  bodies,  or  corpuscles, 
which  float  in  it  and  give  it  its  colour,  a  comparatively 
small  number  of  colourless  corpuscles,  of  somewhat  larger 
size  and  very  irregular  shape.  If  the  drop  of  blood  be 
kept  at  the  temperature  of  the  body,  these  colourless 
corpuscles  will  be  seen  to  exhibit  a  marvellous  activity, 
changing  their  forms  with  great  rapidity,  drawing  in 
and  thrusting  out  prolongations  of  their  substance,  and 
creeping  about  as  if  they  were  independent  organisms. 


viu]  ON  TEE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFK  127 

The  substance  wliicli  is  tlius  active  is  a  mass  of  proto- 
plasm, and  its  activity  differs  in  detail,  rather  than  in 
principle,  from  that  of  the  protoplasm  of  the  nettle. 
Under  sundry  circumstances  the  corpuscle  dies  and 
becomes  distended  into  a  round  mass,  in  the  midst  of 
which  is  seen  a  smaller  spherical  body,  which  existed, 
but  was  more  or  less  hidden,  in  the  living  corpuscle,  and 
is  called  its  nitcleus.  Corpuscles  of  essentially  similar 
structure  are  to  be  found  in  the  skin,  in  the  lining  of  the 
mouth,  and  scattered  through  the  whole  framework  of 
the  body.  Nay,  more  ;  in  the  earliest  condition  of  the 
human  organism,  in  that  state  in  which  it  has  but  just 
become  distinguishable  from  the  egg  in  which  it  arises, 
it  is  nothing  but  an  aggregation  of  such  corpuscles,  and 
every  organ  of  the  body  was,  once,  no  more  than  such 
an  aggregation. 

Thus  a  nucleated  mass  of  protoplasm  turns  out  to  be 
what  may  be  termed  the  structural  unit  of  the  human 
bof'y.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  body,  in  its  earliest  state, 
is  a  mere  multiple  of  such  units ;  and,  in  its  perfect  con- 
dition, it  is  a  multiple  of  such  units,  variously  modified. 

But  does  the  formula  which  expresses  the  essential 
structural  character  of  the  highest  animal  cover  all  the 
rest,  as  the  statement  of  its  powers  and  faculties  covered 
that  of  all  others  ?  Very  nearly.  Beast  and  fowl, 
reptile  and  fish,  moUusk,  worm,  and  polype,  are  all  com- 
posed of  structural  units  of  the  same  character,  namely, 
masses  of  protoplasm  with  a  nucleus.  There  are  sundry 
very  low  animals,  each  of  which,  structurally,  is  a  mere 
colourless  blood-corpuscle,  leading  an  independent  life. 
But,  at  the  very  bottom  of  the  animal  scale,  even  this 
simplicity  becomes  simplified,  and  all  the  phsenomena  of 
life  are  manifested  by  a  particle  of  protoplasm  without  a 
nucleus.  Nor  are  such  organisms  insignificant  by  reason 
of  their  want   of   complexity.      It   is   a   fair   question 


128  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  RtVlEWS.  [vii 

wlietlier  the  protoplasm  of  those  simplest  forms  of  life, 
which  people  an  immense  extent  of  the  bottom  of  the 
sea,  would  not  outweigh  that  of  all  the  higher  living 
beings  which  inhabit  the  land  put  together.  And  in 
ancient  times,  no  less  than  at  the  present  day,  such 
living  beings  as  these  have  been  the  greatest  of  rock 
builders. 

What  has  been  said  of  the  animal  world  is  no  less  true 
of  plants.  Imbedded  in  the  protoplasm  at  the  broad,  or 
attached,  end  of  the  nettle  hair,  there  lies  a  spheroidal 
nucleus.  Careful  examination  further  proves  that  the 
whole  substance  of  the  nettle  is  made  up  of  a  repetition 
of  such  masses  of  nucleated  protoplasm,  each  contained 
in  a  w^ooden  case,  which  is  modified  in  form,  sometimes 
iuto  a  woody  fibre,  sometimes  into  a  duct  or  spiral  vessel, 
sometimes  into  a  pollen  grain,  or  an  ovule.  Traced  back 
to  its  earliest  state,  the  nettle  arises  as  the  man  does,  in 
a  particle  of  nucleated  protoplasm.  And  in  the  lowest 
plants,  as  in  the  lowest  animals,  a  single  mass  of  such 
protoplasm  may  constitute  the  whole  plant,  or  the  photo - 
plasm  may  exist  without  a  nucleus. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  may  well  be  asked,  how 
is  one  mass  of  non-nucleated  protoplasm  to  be  distin- 
guished from  another  ?  why  call  one  "  plant  ^^  and  the 
other  "  animal"  ? 

The  only  reply  is  that,  so  far  as  form  is  concerned, 
plants  and  animals  are  not  separable,  and  that,  in  many 
cases,  it  is  a  mere  matter  of  convention  whether  we  call 
a  given  organism  an  animal  or  a  plant.  There  is  a  living 
body  called  JEthalium  septicum,  which  appears  upon 
decaying  vegetable  substances,  and,  in  one  of  its  forms,  is 
common  upon  the  surfaces  of  tan-pits.  In  this  condition 
it  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  a  fungus,  and  formerly 
was  always  regarded  as  such ;  but  the  remarkable  in- 
vestigations of  De   Bary  have  shown  that,  in  another 


VII.]  ON  THE  FHFSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  129 

condition,  the  JEtlialium  is  an  actively  locomotive  crea- 
ture, and  takes  in  solid  matters,  upon  wMdi,  apparently, 
it  feeds,  thiis  exhibiting  the  most  characteristic  feature 
of  animality.  Is  this  a  plant ;  or  is  it  an  animal  ?  Is 
it  both  ;  or  is  it  neither '?  Some  decide  in  favour  of  the 
last  supposition,  and  establish  an  intermediate  kingdom, 
a  sort  of  biological  No  Man's  Land  for  all  these  ques- 
tionable forms.  But,  as  it  is  admittedly  impossible  to 
draw  any  distinct  boundary  line  between  this  no  man's 
land  and  the  vegetable  world  on  the  one  hand,  or  the 
animal,  on  the  other,  it  appears  to  me  that  this  pro- 
ceeding merely  doubles  the  difficulty  which,  before,  was 
sinoie. 

Protoplasm,  simple  or  nucleated,  is  the  formal  basis  of 
all  life.  It  is  the  clay  of  the  potter  :  which,  bake  it  and 
paint  it  as  he  will,  remains  clay,  separated  by  artifice, 
and  not  by  nature,  from  the  commonest  brick  or  sun- 
dried  clod. 

Thus  it  becomes  clear  that  all  living  powers  are 
cognate,  and  that  all  living  forms  are  fundamentally  of 
one  character.  The  researches  of  the  chemist  have 
revealed  a  no  less  striking  uniformity  of  material  com- 
position in  living  matter. 

In  perfect  strictness,  it  is  true  that  chemical  inves- 
tigation can  teU  us  little  or  nothing,  directly,  of  the 
composition  of  living  matter,  inasmuch  as  such  matter 
must  needs  die  in  the  act  of  analysis, — and  upon  this 
very  obvious  ground,  objections,  which  I  confess  seem  to 
me  to  be  somewhat  frivolous,  have  been  raised  to  the 
drawing  of  any  conclusions  whatever  resjDccting  the 
composition  of  actually  living  matter,  from  that  of  the 
(lead  matter  of  life,  which  alone  is  accessible  to  us.  But 
objectors  of  this  class  do  not  seem  to  reflect  that  it  is 
also,  in  strictness,  true  that  we  know  nothing  about  the 
composition  of  any  body  whatever,  as  it  is.     The  state- 


130  l^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES t  AND  REVIEWS.  [vii 

ment  tliat  a  crystal  of  calc-spar  consists  of  carbonate  of 
lime,  is  quite  true,  if  we  only  mean  that,  by  appropriate 
processes,  it  may  be  resolved  into  carbonic  acid  and 
quicklime.  If  you  pass  the  same  carbonic  acid  over  the 
very  quicklime  thus  obtained,  you  will  obtain  carbonate 
of  lime  again ;  but  it  will  not  be  calc-spar,  nor  anything 
like  it.  Can  it,  therefore,  be  said  that  chemical  analysis 
teaches  nothing  about  the  chemical  composition  of  calc- 
spar  ?  Such  a  statement  would  be  absurd ;  but  it  is 
hardly  more  so  than  the  talk  one  occasionally  hears 
about  the  uselessness  of  applying  the  results  of  chemical 
analysis  to  the  livmg  bodies  which  have  yielded  them. 

One  fact,  at  anv  rate,  is  out  of  reach  of  such  refine- 
ments,  and  this  is,  that  all  the  forms  of  protoplasm 
which  have  yet  been  examined  contain  the  four  elementL% 
carbon,  hydrogen,  oxygen,  and  nitrogen,  in  very  complex 
union,  and  that  they  behave  similarly  towards  several 
reagents.  To  this  complex  combination,  the  nature  of 
which  has  never  been  determmed  with  exactness,  the 
name  of  Protein  has  been  applied.  And  if  v/e  use  this 
term  with  such  caution  as  may  properly  arise  out  of  our 
comparative  ignorance  of  the  things  for  which  it  stands, 
it  may  be  truly  said,  that  all  protoplasm  is  proteinaceous  , 
or,  as  the  white,  or  albumen,  of  an  egg  is  one  of  the 
commonest  examples  of  a  nearly  pure  proteine  matter, 
we  may  say  that  all  living  matter  is  more  or  less 
albuminoid. 

Perhaps  it  would  not  yet  be  safe  to  say  that  all  forms 
of  protoplasm  are  afiected  by  the  direct  action  of  electric 
shocks ;  and  yet  the  number  of  cases  in  which  the 
contraction  ot  protoplasm  is  shown  to  be  effected  by  this 
agency  increases  every  day. 

Nor  can  it  be  affirmed  with  perfect  confidence,  that  all 
forms  of  protoplasm  are  liable  to  undergo  that  peculiar 
coagulation   at   a  temperature   of  40° — 50°  centigrade, 


vii,]  ON  THE  FHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  131 

wliich  Las  been  called  "  heat- stiffening,"  thougli  Kiiline's 
beautiful  researches  have  proved  this  occurrence  to  take 
place  in  so  many  and  such  diverse  living  beings,  that  it 
is  hardly  rash  to  expect  that  the  law  holds  good  for  all. 

Enough  has,  perhaps,  been  said  to  prove  the  existence 
of  a  general  uniformity  in  the  character  of  the  proto- 
plasm, or  physical  basis,  of  life,  in  whatever  group  of 
living  beings  it  may  be  studied.  But  it  will  be  under- 
stood that  this  general  uniformity  by  no  means  excludes 
any  amount  of  special  modifications  of  the  fundamental 
substance.  The  mineral,  carbonate  of  lime,  assumes  an 
immense  diversity  of  characters,  though  no  one  doubts 
that,  under  all  these  Protean  changes,  it  is  one  a.nd  the 
same  thino^. 

And  nov/,  what  is  the  ultimate  fate,  and  what  the 
origin,  of  the  matter  of  life  ? 

Is  it,  as  some  of  the  older  naturalists  supposed, 
difiused  throughout  the  universe  in  molecules,  which  are 
indestructible  and  unchangeable  in  themselves ;  but,  in 
endless  transmigration,  unite  in  innumerable  permu- 
tations, into  the  diversified  forms  of  life  we  know  ?  Or, 
is  the  matter  of  life  composed  of  ordinary  matter, 
difiering  from  it  only  in  the  manner  in  which  its  atoms 
are  aggregated  ?  Is  it  built  up  of  ordinary  matter,  and 
again  resolved  into  ordinary  matter  when  its  work  is 
done? 

Modern  science  does  not  hesitate  a  moment  between 
these  alternatives.  Physiology  writes  over  the  portals  of 
life — 

"Debemur  morti  nos  nostraque/* 

with  a  profounder  meaning  than  the  Eoman  poet  attached 
to  that  melancholy  line.  Under  whatever  disguise  it 
takes  refuge,  whether  fungus  or  oak,  worm  or  man,  the 


132  ZJr  SUMMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [vii. 

living  protoplasm  not  only  ultimately  dies  and  is  resolved 
into  its  mineral  and  lifeless  constituents,  but  is  always 
dying,  and,  strange  as  tlie  paradox  may  sound,  could  not 
live  unless  it  died. 

In  tlie  wonderful  story  of  the  "Peau  de  Cliagrin," 
tlie  liero  becomes  possessed  of  a  magical  wild  ass'  skin, 
whicli  yields  him  the  means  of  gratifying  all  his  wishes. 
But  its  surface  represents  the  duration  of  the  proprietor's 
life ;  and  for  every  satisfied  desire  the  skin  shrinks  in 
proportion  to  the  intensity  of  fruition,  until  at  length 
life  and  the  last  handbreadth  of  the  "peau  de  chagrin 
disappear  with  the  gratification  of  a  last  wish. 

Balzac's  studies  had  led  him  over  a  wide  range  of 
thought  and  speculation,  and  his  shadowing  forth  of 
physiological  truth  in  this  strange  story  may  have  been 
intentional.  At  any  rate,  the  matter  of  life  is  a  veritable 
peau  de  chagrin,  and  for  every  vital  act  it  is  somewhat 
the  smaller.  All  work  implies  waste,  and  the  "work  of 
life  results,  directly  or  indirectly,  in  the  waste  of  pro- 
toplasm. 

Every  word  uttered  by  a  speaker  costs  him  some 
physical  loss ;  and,  in  the  strictest  sense,  he  burns  that 
others  may  have  light — so  much  eloquence,  so  much  of 
his  body  resolved  into  carbonic  acid,  water,  and  urea. 
It  is  clear  that  this  process  of  expenditure  cannot  go  on 
for  ever.  But,  happily,  the  protoplasmic  ^e(X^t  de  chagrin 
differs  from  Balzac's  in  its  capacity  of  being  repaired,  and 
brought  back  to  its  full  size,  after  every  exertion. 

For  example,  this  present  lecture,  whatever  its  intel- 
lectual worth  to  you,  has  a  certain  physical  value  to  me, 
which  is,  conceivably,  expressible  by  the  number  of 
grains  of  protoplasm  and  other  bodily  substance  wasted 
in  maintaining  my  vital  processes  during  its  delivery 
M.J  jyeau  de  chagrin  will  be  distinctly  smaller  at  the  end 
of  the  discourse  than  it  was  at  the  beginning.     By  and 


riL]  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  \Zo 

by,  I  shall  probably  have  recourse  to  tbe  substance  com- 
monly called  mutton,  for  the  purpose  of  stretching  it 
back  to  its  original  size.  Now  this  mutton  was  once 
the  living  protoplasm,  more  or  less  modified,  of  another 
animal — a  sheep.  As  I  shall  eat  it,  it  is  the  same  matter 
altered,  not  only  by  death,  but  by  exposure  to  sundry 
artificial  operations  in  the  process  of  cooking. 

But  these  changes,  whatever  be  their  extent,  have  not 
rendered  it  incompetent  to  resume  its  old  functions  as 
matter  of  life.  A  singular  inward  laboratory,  which  I 
possess,  will  dissolve  a  certain  portion  of  the  modified 
protoplasm  ;  the  solution  so  formed  will  pass  into  my 
veins  ;  and  the  subtle  influences  to  which  it  will  then  be 
subjected  will  convert  the  dead  protoplasm  into  living 
protoplasm,  and  transubstantiate  sheep  into  man. 

Nor  is  this  all.  If  digestion  w^ere  a  thing  to  be  trifled 
with,  I  might  sup  upon  lobster,  and  the  matter  of  life  of 
the  crustacean  would  undergo  the  same  wonderful  meta- 
morphosis into  humanity.  And  Avere  I  to  return  to  my 
own  place  by  sea,  and  undergo  shipwreck,  the  Crustacea 
might,  and  probably  would,  return  t\iQ  compliment,  and 
demonstrate  our  common  nature  by  turning  my  proto- 
plasm into  living  lobster.  Or,  if  nothing  better  were  to 
be  had,  I  might  supply  my  wants  with  mere  bread,  and 
I  should  find  the  protoplasm  of  the  wheat-plant  to  be 
convertible  into  man,  with  no  more  trouble  than  that 
of  the  sheep,  and  with  far  less,  I  fancy,  than  that  of 
the  lobster. 

Hence  it  appears  to  be  a  matter  of  no  great  moment 
what  animal,  or  what  plant,  I  lay  under  contribution  for 
protoplasm,  and  the  fact  speaks  volumes  for  the  general 
identitv  of  that  substance  in  all  livino;  beino^s.  I  share 
this  catholicity  of  assimilation  with  other  animals,  all  oi 
which,  so  far  as  we  know,  could  thrive  equally  well  on 
the  protoplasm  of  any  of  their  fellows,  or  of  auy  plant ; 


1.34  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJFS.  [vil 

but  liere  the  assimilative  powers  of  the  animal  world 
cease.  A  solution  of  smelling-salts  in  water,  with  an 
infinitesimal  proportion  of  some  other  saline  matters, 
contains  all  the  elementary  bodies  which  enter  into  the 
composition  of  protoplasm ;  but,  as  I  need  hardly  say,  a 
hogshead  of  that  fluid  would  not  keep  a  hungry  man  from 
starving,  nor  would  it  save  any  animal  whatever  from  a 
like  fate.  An  animal  cannot  make  protoplasm,  but  must 
take  it  ready-made  from  some  other  animal,  or  some 
plant — the  animal's  highest  feat  of  constructive  chemistry 
being  to  convert  dead  protoplasm  into  that  living  matter 
of  life  which  is  appropriate  to  itself. 

Therefore,  in  seeking  for  the  origin  of  protoplasm,  we 
must  eventually  turn  to  the  vegetable  world.  The  fluid, 
containing  carbonic  acid,  water,  and  ammonia,  which 
offers  such  a  Barmecide  feast  to  the  animal,  is  a  table 
richly  spread  to  multitudes  of  plants ;  and,  with  a  due 
supply  of  only  such  materials,  ma.ny  a  plant  will  not  only 
maintain  itself  in  vigour,  but  grow  and  multiply  until  it 
has  increased  a  million-fold,  or  a  million  million-fold,  the 
quantity  of  protoplasm  which  it  origina^Uy  possessed;  in 
this  way  building  up  the  matter  of  life,  to  an  indefinite 
extent,  from  the  common  matter  of  the  universe. 

Thus,  the  animal  can  only  raise  the  complex  sub- 
stance of  dead  protoplasm  to  the  higher  power,  as  one 
may  say,  of  living  protoplasm ;  while  the  plant  can  raise 
the  less  complex  substances — carbonic  acid,  water,  and 
ammonia — to  the  same  stage  of  living  protoplasm,  if  not 
to  the  same  level.  But  the  plant  also  has  its  limitations. 
Some  of  the  fungi,  for  example,  appear  to  need  higher 
compounds  to  start  with ;  and  no  known  plant  can  live 
upon  the  uncompounded  elements  of  protoplasm.  A 
plant  supplied  with  pure  carbon,  hydrogen,  oxygen, 
and  nitrogen,  phosphorus,  sulphur,  and  the  like,  would 
as  infallibly  die  as  the  aniinal  in  his  bath  of  smelling* 


TII.J  ON  THE  FUrSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  135 

salts,  thoiigli  it  would  be  siTiTouncled  by  all  tlie  consti- 
tuents of  protoplasm.  Nor,  indeed,  need  the  process  of 
simplification  of  vegetable  food  be  carried  so  far  as  this, 
in  order  to  arrive  at  the  limit  of  the  plant's  thaumaturgy. 
Let  water,  carbonic  acid,  and  all  the  other  needful  con- 
stituents be  supplied  with  ammonia,  and  an  ordinary 
plant  will  still  be  unable  to  manufacture  protoplasm. 

Thus  the  matter  of  life,  so  far  as  we  know  it  (and  we 
have  no  right  to  speculate  on  any  other),  breaks  up,  in 
consequence  of  that  continual  death  which  is  the  con- 
dition of  its  manifesting  vitality,  into  carbonic  acid, 
w^ater,  and  ammonia,  which  certainly  possess  no  proper- 
ties but  those  of  ordinary  matter.  And  out  of  these 
same  forms  of  ordinary  matter,  and  from  none  wdiich 
are  simpler,  the  vegetable  world  builds  up  all  the  proto- 
plasm which  keeps  the  animal  world  a-going.  Plants  are 
the  accumulators  of  the  power  which  animals  distribute 
and  disperse. 

But  it  will  be  observed,  that  the  existence  of  the 
matter  of  life  depends  on  the  pre-existence  of  certain 
compounds  ;  namely,  carbonic  acid,  water,  and  ammonia. 
Withdraw  any  one  of  these  three  from  the  world,  and.  all 
vital  phsenomena  come  to  an  end.  They  are  related 
to  the  protoplasm^  of  the  plant,  as  the  protoj^lasmx  of  the 
plant  is  to  that  of  the  animal.  Carbon,  hydrogen,  oxygen, 
and  nitrogen  are  all  lifeless  bodies.  Of  these,  carbon 
and  oxygen  unite,  in  certain  proportions  and  under 
certain  conditions,  to  give  rise  to  carbonic  acid  j 
hydrogen  and  oxygen  produce  water ;  nitrogen  and 
hydrogen  give  rise  to  ammonia.  These  new  compounds, 
like  the  elementary  bodies  of  wdiich  they  are  composed, 
are  lifeless.  But  when  they  are  brought  together, 
under  certain  conditions  they  give  rise  to  the  still 
more  complex  body,  protoplasm,  and  this  protoplasm 
exhibits  the  phcenomena  of  life. 


136  L^y  SI:RM0NS,  addresses,  and  reviews.  [vii. 

I  see  no  break  in  this  series  of  steps  in  molecular 
complication,  and  I  am  unable  to  understand  wliy  the 
language  wliicli  is  applicable  to  any  one  term  of  the 
series  may  not  be  used  to  any  of  the  others.  We  think 
fit  to  call  different  kinds  of  matter  carbon,  oxygen, 
hydrogen,  and  nitrogen,  and  to  speak  of  the  various 
powers  and  activities  of  these  substances  as  the  pro- 
perties of  the  matter  of  which  they  are  composed. 

When  hydrogen  and  oxygen  are  mixed  in  a  certain 
proportion,  and  an  electric  spark  is  passed  through  them, 
they  disappear,  and  a  quantity  of  water,  equal  in  weight 
to  the  sum  of  their  weights,  appears  in  their  place. 
There  is  not  the  slightest  parity  between  the  passive  and 
active  powers  of  the  waters  and  those  of  the  oxygen  and 
hydrogen  which  have  given  rise  to  it.  At  32**  Fahrenheit, 
and  far  below  that  temperature,  oxygen  and  hydrogen 
are  elastic  gaseous  bodies,  whose  particles  tend  to  rush 
away  from  one  another  with  great  force.  Water,  at  the 
same  temperature,  is  a  strong  though  brittle  solid,  whose 
particles  tend  to  cohere  into  definite  geometrical  shapes, 
and  sometimes  build  up  frosty  imitations  of  the  most 
complex  forms  of  vegetable  foliage. 

Nevertheless  we  call  these,  and  many  other  strange 
phsenomena,  the  properties  of  the  water,  and  we  do  not 
hesitate  to  believe  that,  in  some  way  or  another,  they 
result  from  the  properties  of  the  component  elements  of 
the  water.  We  do  not  assume  that  a  something  called 
"aquosity"  entered  into  and  took  possession  of  the  oxide 
of  hydrogen  as  soon  as  it  was  foruied,  and  then  guided 
the  aqueous  particles  to  their  places  in  the  facets  of  the 
crystal,  or  amongst  the  leaflets  of  the  hoar-frost.  On  the 
contrary,  we  live  in  the  hope  and  in  the  faith  that,  by 
the  advance  of  molecular  physics,  we  shall  by  and  by  be 
able  to  see  our  way  as  clearly  from  the  constituents  of 
M'ater  to  the  properties  of  water,  as  we  are  now  able  to 


ni.]  ON  TEE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  137 

deduce  the  operations  of  a  watch  from  the  form  of  its 
parts  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  put  together. 

Is  the  case  in  any  way  changed  when  carbonic  acid, 
water,  and  ammonia  disappear,  and  in  their  place,  under 
the  influence  of  pre-existing  living  protoplasm,  an 
equivalent  weight  of  the  matter  of  life  makes  its 
appearance  ? 

It  is  true  that  there  is  no  sort  of  parity  between  the 
properties  of  the  components  and  the  properties  of  the 
resultant,  but  neither  was  there  in  the  case  of  the  water. 
It  is  also  true  that  what  I  have  spoken  of  as  the  in- 
fluence of  pre-existing  living  matter  is  something  quite 
unintelligible ;  but  does  anybody  quite  comprehend  the 
modus  operandi  of  an  electric  spark,  which  traverses  a 
mixture  of  oxygen  and  hydrogen  ? 

"What  justification  is  there,  then,  for  the  assumption  of 
the  existence  in  the  living  matter  of  a  something  which 
has  no  representative,  or  correlative,  in  the  not  living 
matter  which  gave  rise  to  it  ?  What  better  philosophical 
status  has  ''  vitality "  than  *'  aquosity "  ?  And  why 
should  **  vitality''  hope  for  a  better  fate  than  the  other 
"  itys"  which  have  disappeared  since  Martinus  Scriblerus 
accounted  for  the  operation  of  the  meat-jack  by  its 
inherent  "  meat^roasting  quality/'  and  scorned  the 
"materialism"  of  those  who  explained  the  turning  of  the 
spit  by  a  certain  mechanism  worked  by  the  draught  of 
the  chimney  ? 

If  scientific  language  is  to  possess  a  definite  and 
constant  signification  whenever  it  is  employed,  it  seems 
to  me  that  we  are  logically  bound  to  apply  to  the 
protoplasm,  or  physical  basis  of  life,  the  same  concep- 
tions as  those  which  are  held  to  be  legitimate  elsewhere. 
If  the  phaenomena  exhibited  by  water  are  its  properties, 
so  are  those  presented  by  protoplasm,  living  or  dead,  its 
properties. 


[38  l^Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJVS.  [vii. 

If  tlie  properties  of  water  may  be  properly  said  to 
result  from  the  nature  and  disposition  of  its  component 
molecules,  I  can  find  no  intelligible  ground  for  refusing 
to  say  that  the  properties  of  protoplasm  result  from  the 
nature  and  disposition  of  its  molecules. 

But  I  bid  you  beware  that,  in  accepting  these  conclu- 
sions, you  are  placing  your  feet  on  the  first  rung  of  a 
ladder  which,  in  most  people's  estimation,  is  the  reverse 
of  Jacob's,  and  leads  to  the  antipodes  of  heaven.  It  may 
seem  a  small  thing  to  admit  that  the  dull  vital  actions 
of  a  fungus,  or  a  foraminifer,  are  the  properties  of  their 
protoplasm,  and  are  the  direct  results  of  the  nature  of  the 
matter  of  which  they  are  composed.  But  if,  as  I  have 
endeavoured  to  prove  to  you,  their  protoplasm  is  essen- 
tially identical  with,  and  most  readily  converted  into, 
that  of  any  animal,  I  can  discover  no  logical  halting- 
place  between  the  admission  that  such  is  the  case,  and 
the  further  concession  that  all  vital  action  may,  with 
equal  propriety,  be  said  to  be  the  result  of  the  molecular 
forces  of  the  protoplasm  which  displays  it.  And  if  so, 
it  must  be  true,  in  the  same  sense  and  to  the  same 
extent,  that  the  thoughts  to  which  I  am  now  giving 
utterance,  and  your  thoughts  regarding  them,  are  the 
expression  of  molecular  changes  in  that  matter  of  life 
which  is  the  source  of  our  other  vital  phsenomena. 

Past  experience  leads  me  to  be  tolerably  certain  that, 
when  the  propositions  I  have  just  placed  before  you  are 
accessible  to  public  comment  and  criticism,  they  will  be 
condemned  by  many  zealous  persons,  and  perhaps  by 
some  few  of  the  wise  and  thoughtful.  I  should  not 
wonder  if  "gross  and  brutal  materialism"  were  the 
mildest  phrase  applied  to  them  in  certain  quarters. 
And,  most  undoubtedly,  the  terms  of  the  propositions  are 
distinctly   materialistic.      Nevertheless   two   things    ara 


rii.]  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.  139 

certain  :  tlie  one,  tLat  I  hoH  tlie  statements  to  be  sub- 
stantially true ;  the  other,  that  I,  individually,  am  no 
materialist,  but,  on  the  contrary,  believe  materialism  to 
involve  grave  philosophical  error. 

This  union  of  materialistic  terminology  with  the  repu- 
diation of  materialistic  philosophy  I  share  with  some  of 
the  most  thoughtful  men  with  whom  I  am  acquainted. 
And,  when  I  first  undertook  to  deliver  the  present 
discourse,  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  fitting  opportunity 
to  explain  how  such  a  union  is  not  only  consistent  with, 
but  necessitated  by,  sound  logic.  I  purposed  to  lead  you 
through  the  territory  of  vital  phsenomena  to  the  material- 
istic slough  in  which  you  find  yourselves  now  plunged, 
and  then  to  point  out  to  you  the  sole  path  by  which,  in 
my  judgment,  extrication  is  possible. 

An  occurrence  of  which  I  was  unaware  until  my 
arrival  here  last  nig^ht  renders  this  line  of  aro^ument 
singularly  opportune.  I  found  in  your  papers  the 
eloquent  address  "  On  the  Limits  of  Philosophical 
Inquiry,*'  which  a  distinguished  prelate  of  the  English 
Church  delivered  before  the  members  of  the  Philoso- 
phical Institution  on  the  previous  day.  My  argument, 
also,  turns  upon  this  very  point  of  the  limits  of  philo- 
sophical inquiry ;  and  I  cannot  bring  out  my  own  views 
better  than  by  contrasting  them  w^ith  those  so  plainly 
and,  in  the  main,  fairly  stated  by  the  Archbishop  of 
York. 

But  I  may  be  permitted  to  make  a  preliminary  con- 
ment  upon  an  occurrence  that  greatly  astonished  me. 
Applying  the  name  of  the  "New  Philosophy''  to  that 
estimate  of  the  limits  of  philosophical  inquiry  which  I, 
in  common  with  manv  other  men  of  science,  hold  to  be 
just,  the  Archbishop  opens  his  address  by  identifying 
this  "New  Philosophy"  with  the  Positive  Philosophy  of 
M.  Comte  (of  whom  he  speaks  as  its  "  founder'') ;  and 


140  LAY  SURMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vii. 

tlien  proceeds  to  attack  tliat  pliilosoplier  and  his  doctrines 
vigorously. 

Now,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  tlie  most  reverend 
prelate  might  dialectically  hew  M.  Comte  in  pieces,  as  a 
modern  Agag,  and  I  should  not  attempt  to  stay  his 
hand.  In  so  far  as  my  study  of  what  specially  charac- 
terises the  Positive  Philosophy  has  led  me,  I  find  therein 
little  or  nothing  of  any  scientific  value,  and  a  great  deal 
which  is  as  thoroughly  antagonistic  to  the  very  essence 
of  science  as  anything  in  ultramontane  Catholicism.  In 
fact,  M.  Comte's  philosophy  in  practice  might  be  com- 
pendiously described  as  Catholicism  mimes  Christianity. 

But  what  has  Comtism  to  do  with  the  "  New  Philo- 
sophy," as  the  Archbishop  defines  it  in  the  .following 
passage  ? 

"  Let  me  briefly  remind  you  of  the  leading  principles  of  this  new 
pliilosopliy. 

''  All  knowledge  is  experience  of  facts  acquired  by  the  senses.  The 
traditions  of  older  philosophies  have  obscured  our  experience  by  mixing 
with  it  much  that  the  senses  cannot  observe,  and  until  these  additions 
are  discarded  our  knowledge  is  impure.  Thus  metaphysics  tell  us  that 
one  fact  which  we  observe  is  a  cause,  and  another  is  the  effect  of  that 
cause ;  but,  upon  a  rigid  analysis,  we  find  that  our  senses  observe 
nothing  of  cause  or  effect:  they  observe,  first,  that  one  fact  succeeds 
another,  and,  after  some  opportunity,  that  this  fact  has  never  failed  to 
follow — that  for  cause  and  effect  we  should  substitute  invariable  suc- 
cession. An  older  philosophy  teaches  us  to  define  an  object  by  dis- 
tinguishing its  essential  from  its  accidental  qualities :  but  experience 
knows  nothing  of  essential  and  accidental ;  she  sees  only  that  certain 
marks  attach  to  an  object,  and,  after  many  observations,  that  some  of 

them  attach  invariably,  whilst  others  may  at  times  be  absent 

As  all  knowledge  is  relative,  the  notion  of  anything  being  necessary 
must  be  banished  with  other  traditions."  ^ 

There  is  much  here  that  expresses  the  spirit  of  the 
"  New  Philosophy,''  if  by  that  term  be  meant  the  spirit 
of  modern  science ;   but  I  cannot  but  marvel  that  the 

"  The  Limits  of  Philosophical  Inquiry,"  pp.  4  and  5. 


vil]  on  tee  physical  basis  of  life.  141 

assembled  wisdom  and  learnino;  of  Edinburo'li  should 
have  uttered  no  sign  of  dissent,  when  Comte  was 
declared  to  be  the  founder  of  these  doctrines.  No  one 
will  accuse  Scotchmen  of  habitually  forgetting  their 
great  countrymen ;  but  it  was  enough  to  make  David 
Hume  turn  in  his  grave,  that  here,  almost  within  ear- 
shot of  his  house,  an  instructed  audience  should  have 
listened,  without  a  murmur,  while  his  most  characteristic 
doctrines  were  attributed  to  a  French  writer  of  fifty 
years  later  date,  in  whose  dreary  and  verbose  pages  we 
miss  alike  the  vigour  of  thought  and  the  exquisite  clear- 
ness of  style  of  the  man  whom  I  make  bold  to  term  the 
most  acute  thinker  of  the  eighteenth  century — even 
though  that  century  produced  Kant. 

But  I  did  not  come  to  Scotland  to  vindicate  the 
honour  of  one  of  the  greatest  men  she  has  ever  produced. 
My  business  is  to  point  out  to  you  that  the  only  way  of 
escape  out  of  the  crass  materialism  in  which  we  just 
now  la^nded,  is  the  adoption  and  strict  working-out  of 
the  very  principles  which  the  Archbishop  holds  up  to 
reprobation. 

Let  us  suppose  that  knowledge  is  absolute,  and  not 
relative,  and  therefore,  that  our  conception  of  matter 
represents  that  which  it  really  is.  Let  us  suppose, 
further,  that  we  do  know  more  of  cause  and  effect  than 
a  certain  definite  order  of  succession  amono^  facts,  and 
that  we  have  a  knowledge  of  the  necessity  of  that  succes- 
sion— and  hence,  of  necessary  laws — and  I,  for  my  part, 
do  not  see  what  escape  there  is  from  utter  materialism 
and  necessarianism.  For  it  is  obvious  that  our  know- 
ledge of  what  we  call  the  material  world  is,  to  begin 
with,  at  least  as  certain  and  definite  as  that  of  the 
spiritual  world,  and  that  our  acquaintance  with  law  is  of 
as  old  a  date  as  our  knowledge  of  spontaneity.  Further, 
1  take  it  to  be  demonstrable  that  it  is  utterly  impossible 


143  LAY  SmMONS,  JDBItFSSmS,  AND  REVIEWS.  [vii 

to  prove  that  anytliing  whatever  may  not  be  tlie  effect 
of  a  material  and  necessary  cause,  and  tliat  human  logic 
is  equally  inconipetert  to  prove  that  any  act  is 
really  spontaneous.  A  really  spontaneous  act  is  one 
which,  by  the  assumption,  has  no  cause  ;  and  the  attempt 
to  prove  such  a  negative  as  this  is,  on  the  face  of  the 
paatter,  absurd.  And  while  it  is  thus  a  philosophical 
impossibility  to  demonstrate  that  any  given  phsenomenon 
is  not  the  effect  of  a  material  cause,  any  one  v/ho  is 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  science  will  admit,  that 
its  progress  has,  in  all  ages,  meant,  and  now,  more  than 
ever,  means,  the  extension  of  the  province  of  what  we 
call  matter  and  causation,  and  the  concomitant  gradual 
banishment  from  all  regions  of  human  thought  of  what 
\\'Q  call  spirit  and  spontaneity. 

I  have  endeavoured,  in  the  first  part  of  this  discourse, 
to  give  you  a  conception  of  the  direction  towards  which 
modern  physiology  is  tending  ;  ptud  I  ask  you,  what  is 
the  difference  between  the  conception  of  life  as  the 
product  of  a  certain  disposition  of  material  molecules, 
and  the  old  notion  of  an  Archseus  governing  and  di- 
recting blind  matter  within  each  living  body,  except 
this — that  here,  as  elsewhere,  matter  and  law  have  de- 
voured spirit  and  spontaneity  ?  And  as  surely  as  every 
future  grows  out  of  past  and  present,  so  will  the  phy- 
siology of  the  future  gradually  extend  the  realm  of 
matter  and  law  until  it  is  co-extensive  with  knowledge, 
with  feeling,  and  with  action. 

The  consciousness  of  this  great  truth  weighs  like  a 
nightmare,  I  believe,  upon  many  of  the  best  minds  of 
these  days.  They  watch  what  they  conceive  to  be  the 
progress  of  materialism,  in  such  fear  and  powerless  anger 
as  a  savage  feels,  when,  during  an  eclipse,  the  great 
shadow  creeps  over  the  face  of  the  sun.  The  advancing 
tide  of  matter  threatens  to  drown  their  souls  ;  the  tio^ht- 


vii.  j  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE,  143 

ening  grasp  of  law  impedes  their  freedom  ;  they  are 
alarmed  lest  m.an^s  moral  nature  be  debased  by  the 
increase  of  his  wisdom. 

If  the  "  New  Philosophy "  be  worthy  of  the  repro- 
bation with  which  it  is  visited,  I  confess  their  fears  seem 
to  me  to  be  well  founded.  While,  on  the  contrary, 
could  David  Hume  be  consulted,  I  think  he  would  smile 
at  their  perplexities,  and  chide  them  for  doing  even  as 
the  heathen,  and  falling  down  in  terror  before  the 
hideous  idols  their  own  hands  have  raised. 

For,  after  all,  what  do  we  know  of  this  terrible 
"  matter,"  except  as  a  name  for  the  unknown  and  hypo- 
thetical cause  of  states  of  our  own  consciousness  ?  And 
what  do  we  know  of  that  *'  spirit"  over  w^hose  threatened 
extinction  by  matter  a  great  lamentation  is  arising,  like 
that  which  was  heard  at  the  death  of  Pan,  except  that 
it  is  also  a  name  for  an  unknown  and  hypothetical  cause, 
or  condition,  of  states  of  consciousness  ?  In  other  words, 
matter  and  spirit  are  but  names  for  the  imaginary  sub- 
strata of  groups  of  natural  phsenomena. 

And  what  is  the  dire  necessity  and  "  iron"  law  under 
which  men  groan  ?  Truly,  most  gratuitously  invented 
bugbears.  I  suppose  if  there  be  an,** iron"  law,  it  is 
that  of  gravitation ;  and  if  there  be  a  |)liysical  necessity, 
it  is  that  a  stone,  unsupported,  must  faU  to  the  ground. 
But  what  is  all  we  really  know,  and  can  know,  about  the 
latter  phsenomenon?  Simply,  that,  in  all  human  ex- 
perience, stones  have  xfallen  to  the  ground  under  these 
conditions  ;  that  we  have  not  the  smallest  reason  for 
believing  that  any  stone  so  circumstanced  will  not  fall 
to  the  ground ;  and  that  we  have,  on  the  contrary,  every 
reason  to  believe  that  it  v/ill  so  fall.  It  is  very  con- 
venient to  indicate  that  all  the  conditions  of  belief  Lave 
been  fulfilled  in  this  case,  by  calling  the  statement  that 
unsupported  stones  will  fall  to  the  ground,  "  a  law  of 


L44  L^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEIFS,  [vii. 

Qature."  But  when,  as  commonly  happens,  we  change 
will  into  must,  we  introduce  an  idea  of  necessity  which 
most  assuredly  does  not  lie  in  the  observed  facts,  and 
has  no  warranty  that  I  can  discover  elsewhere.  For  my 
part,  I  utterly  repudiate  and  anathematize  the  intruder. 
Fact  I  know ;  and  Law  I  know ;  but  what  is  this  Ne- 
cessity, save  an  empty  shadow  of  my  own  mmds 
throwing  ? 

But,  if  it  is  certain  that  we  can  have  no  knowledge 
of  the  nature  of  either  matter  or  spirit,  and  that  the 
notion  of  necessity  is  something  illegitimately  thrust 
into  the  perfectly  legitimate  conception  of  law,  the 
materialistic  position  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  world 
but  matter,  force,  and  necessity,  is  as  utterly  devoid  of 
justification  as  the  most  baseless  of  theological  dogmas. 
The  fundamental  doctrines  of  materialism,  like  those  of 
spiritualism,  and  most  other  "isms,^'  lie  outside  "the 
limits  of  philosophical  inquiry,'^  and  David  Hume's  great 
service  to  humanity  is  his  irrefragable  demonstration  of 
what  these  limits  are.  Hume  called  him^^elf  a  sceptic, 
and  therefore  others  cannot  be  blamed  if  they  apply  the 
same  title  to  him ;  but  that  does  not  alter  the  fact  that 
the  name,  with  its  existing  implications,  does  him  gross 
injustice. 

If  a  man  asks  me  what  the  politics  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  moon  are,  and  I  reply  that  I  do  not  know ;  that 
neither  I,  nor  any  one  else,  have  any  means  of  knowing ; 
and  that,  under  these  circumstances,  I  decline  to  trouble 
myself  about  the  subject  at  all,  I  do  not  think  he  has 
any  right  to  call  me  a  sceptic.  On  the  contrary,  in  re- 
plying thus,  I  conceive  that  I  am  simply  honest  and 
truthful,  and  show  a  proper  regard  for  the  economy  of 
time.  So  Hume's  strong  and  subtle  intellect  takes  up 
a  great  many  problems  about  which  we  are  naturally 
furious,  ajid  shows  us  that  they  are  essentially  questions 


VII.]  ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE,  145 

of  lunar  polities,  in  tlieir  essence  incapable  of  being 
answered,  and  therefore  not  worth  the  attention  of  men 
who  have  work  to  do  in  the  world.  And  he  thus  ends 
one  of  his  essays  : — 

"  If  we  take  ia  hand  any  yolume  of  Divinity,  or  school  metaphysic?, 
for  instance,  let  us  ask,  Does  it  contain  any  abstract  reasoning  concerning 
quantity  or  mimber  2  ]^o.  Does  it  contain  any  experimental  reasoning 
concerning  matter  of  fact  and  existence  ?  I^To.  Commit  it  then  to  the 
flames ;  for  it  can  contain  nothing  but  sophistry  and  illusion."  ^ 

Permit  me  to  enforce  this  most  wise  advice.  Why 
trouble  ourselves  about  matters  of  which,  however  im- 
portant they  may  be,  w^e  do  know  nothing,  and  can 
know  nothing  ?  We  live  in  a  world  which  is  full  of 
misery  and  ignorance,  and  the  plain  duty  of  each  and 
all  of  us  is  to  try  to  make  the  little  corner  he  can  in- 
fluence somewhat  less  miserable  and  somewhat  less 
ignorant  than  it  was  before  he  entered  it.  To  do  this 
effectually  it  is  necessary  to  be  fully  possessed  of  only 
two  beliefs  :  the  first,  that  the  order  of  nature  is  ascer- 
tainable by  our  faculties  to  an  extent  v/hich  is  practically 
unlimited  ;  the  second,  that  our  volition  counts  for  some- 
thing as  a  condition  of  the  course  of  events. 

Each  of  these  beliefs  can  be  verified  experimentally, 
as  often  as  we  like  to  try.  Each,  therefore,  stands  upon 
the  strongest  foundation  upon  which  any  belief  can  rest, 
and  forms  one  of  our  highest  truths.  If  we  find  that 
the  ascertainment  of  the  order  of  nature  is  facilitated 
by  using  one  terminology,  or  one  set  of  symbols,  rather 
than  another,  it  is  our  clear  duty  to  use  the  former ;  and 
DO  harm  can  accrue,  so  long  as  we  bear  in  mind,  that  w^e 
are  dealing  merely  with  terms  and  symbols. 

In  itself  it  is  of  little  moment  whether  we  express 
the  phsenomena  of  matter  in  terms  of  spirit ;    or  the 

^  Hume's  Es'^ay  "Of  the  Academical  or   Sceptical  Philosophy,"  in  the 
*  Inquiry  conceraiug  the  Human  Understanding." 


146  LAY  SEFaiONS,  ABLRESSi:S,  AND  RWIEWB,  [vu. 

plisenomena  of  spirit,  in  terms  of  matter :  matter  may 
be  regarded  as  a  form  of  thought,  thought  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  property  of  matter — each  statement  has  a 
certain  relative  truth.  But  with  a  view  to  the  progress 
of  science,  the  materiahstic  terminology  is  in  every  way 
to  be  preferred.  For  it  connects  thought  with  the  other 
phsenomena  of  the  universe,  and  suggests  inquiry  into 
the  nature  of  those  physical  conditions,  or  concomitants 
of  thoudit,  which  are  more  or  less  accessible  to  us,  and 
a  knowledge  of  which  may,  in  future,  help  us  to  exercise 
the  same  kind  of  control  over  the  world  of  thought,  as 
we  already  possess  in  respect  of  the  material  world ; 
whereas,  the  alternative,  or  sj^iritualistic,  terminology  is 
utterly  barren,  and  leads  to  nothing  but  obscurity,  and 
confusion  of  ideas. 

Thus  there  can  be  little  doubt,  that  the  further  science 
advances,  the  more  extensively  and  consistently  will  all 
the  phaenomena  of  nature  be  represented  by  materialistic 
formulae  and  symbols. 

But  the  man  of  science,  who,  forgetting  the  limits  o1 
philosophical  inquiry,  slides  from  these  formulae  and 
symbols  into  what  is  commonly  understood  by  mate- 
rialism, seems  to  me  to  place  himself  on  a  level  witli 
the  mathematician,  who  should  mistake  the  :r's  and  yi 
with  which  he  works  his  problems,  for  real  entities — and 
with  this  further  disadvantage,  as  compared  with  the 
mathematician,  that  the  blunders  of  the  latter  are  .  of 
no  practical  consequence,  while  the  errors  of  systematic 
materialism  may  paralyse  the  energies  and  destroj  the 
beauty  of  a  life. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS   OF  POSITIVISM. 

It  is  now  some  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  since  I  became 
acquainted  with  the  "  Philosophie  Positive/'  the  "  Dis- 
coiirs  snr  TEnsemble  clu  Positivisme/'  and  the  "  Politique 
Positive"  of  Anguste  Comte.  I  was, led  to  study  these 
works  partly  by  the  allusions  to  them  in  Mr.  Mill's 
"Logic,"  partly  by  the  recommendation  of  a  dis- 
tinguished theologian,  and  partly  by  the  urgency  of  a 
valued  friend,  the  late  Professor  Plenfrey,  who  looked 
upon  LI.  Comte's  bulky  volumes  as  a  mine  of  wisdom, 
and  lent  them  to  me  that  I  mio^it  dig-  and  be  rich. 
After  clue  perusal,  I  found  myself  in  a  position  to  echo 
my  friend's  v/ords,  though  I  may  have  laid  more  stress 
on  the  "  mine"  than  on  the  *'  wisdom."  For  I  found 
the  veins  of  ore  few  and  far  between,  and  the  rock  so 
apt  to  run  to  mud,  that  one  incurred  the  risk  of  being 
intellectually  smothered  in  the  w^orking.  Still,  as  I 
was  P^lacl  to  acknowleds^e,  I  did  come  to  a  nuo^o-et  here 
and  there ;  though  not,  so  far  as  my  experience  went, 
in  the  discussions  on  the  philosophy  of  the  physical 
sciences,  but  in  the  chapters  on  speculative  and  practical 
sociology.  In  these  there  was  indeed  much  to  arouse 
the  liveliest  interest  in  one  whose  boat  had  broken  away 
from  the  old  moorings,  and  w^ho  had  been  content "  to 
lay  out  an  anchor  by  the  stern"  until  daylight  should 


148  L^^  SER2I0NS,  ADBBESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [viii. 

break  and  tlie  fog  clear.  Notliing  conld  be  more  inter- 
esting to  a  student  of  biology  than  to  see  tlie  study 
of  the  biological  sciences  laid  down,  as  an  essential  part 
of  the  prolegomena  of  a  new  view  of  social  plisenomena. 
Nothing  could  be  more  satisfactory  to  a  worshipper  of 
the  severe  truthfulness  of  science  than  the  attempt  to 
dispense  with  all  beliefs,  save  such  as  could  brave  the 
light,  and  seek,  rather  than  fear,  criticism ;  while,  to  a 
lover  of  courage  and  outspokenness,  nothing  could  be 
more  touching  than  the  placid  announcement  on  the 
title-page  of  the  "  Discours  sur  TEnsemble  du  Positi- 
visme,"  that  its  author  proposed 

"  Eeorganiser,  sans  Dieu  ni  roi, 
Par  le  culte  systematique  de  rHumanite," 

the  shattered  frame  of  modern  society. 

In  those  clays  I  knew  my  "  Faust  '^  pretty  well,  and, 
after  reading  this  word  of  might,  I  was  minded  to 
chant  the  well-knowD  stanzas  of  the  "  Geisterchor" — 

"Well!  Weh! 
Die  schone  welt. 
Sie  stiirzt,  sie  zerfallfc 
Wir  tragen 

Die  Triimmem  ins  ^iclits  liiiralDcr. 
Maclitiger 
Der  Erdensohne 
Praclitiger, 
Bane  sie  wieder 
In  deinem  Eusene  bane  sie  anf." 

Great,  however,  was  my  perplexity,  not  to  say  disap- 
pointment, as  I  followed  the  progress  of  this  "mighty 
son  of  earth"  in  his  work  of  reconstruction.  Un- 
doubtedly ''Dieu"  disappeared,  but  the  ''Nouveau 
Grand-Etre  Supreme,"  a  gigantic  fetish,  turned  out  bran- 
ncw  by  M.  Comtc's  own  hands,  reigned  in  his  stead. 
tiEoi"  also  was  not  heard  of;  but,  in  his  place,  I  found 


VIII.]  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM,  149 

a  minutely-defined  social  organization,  wliicli,  if  it  ever 
came  into  practice,  woiild  exert  a  despotic  authority 
such  as  no  snltan  has  rivalled,  and  no  Puritan  presbytery, 
in  its  palmiest  days,  could  hope  to  excel.  While  as  for 
the  **culte  systematique  de  THumanite,"  I,  in  my  blind- 
ness, could  not  distinguish  it  from  sheer  Popery,  with 
M.  Comte  in  the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  and  the  names  of 
most  of  the  saints  changed.  To  quote  "Faust''  again, 
I  found  myself  saying  with  Gretchen, — 

**Ungefalir  sagt  das  der  Pfarrer  aucb. 
l^ur  mit  ein  bisclien  andern  Worten." 

Eightly  or  wrongly,  this  was  the  impression  which,  all 
those  years  ago,  the  study  of  M.  Comte's  works  left  on 
my  mind,  combined  with  the  conviction,  which  I  shall 
always  be  thankful  to  him  for  awakening  in  me,  that 
the  organization  of  society  upon  a  new  and  purely 
scientific  basis  is  not  only  practicable,  but  is  the  only 
political  object  much  worth  fighting  for. 

As  I  have  said,  that  part  of  M.  Comte's  writings 
which  deals  with  the  philosophy  of  physical  science 
appeared  to  me  to  possess  singularly  little  value,  and 
to  show  that  he  had  but  the  most  superficial,  and  merely 
second-hand,  knowledge  of  most  branches  of  what  is 
usually  understood  by  science.  I  do  not  mean  by  this 
merely  to  say  that  Comte  was  behind  our  present  know- 
ledge, or  that  he  w^as  unacquainted  with  the  details  of 
the  science  of  his  own  clay.  No  one  could  justly  make 
such  defects  cause  of  complaint  in  a  philosophical  writer 
of  the  past  generation.  What  struck  me  was  his  want  of 
apprehension  of  the  great  features  of  science ;  his  strange 
mistakes  as  to  the  merits  of  his  scientific  contemporaries ; 
and  his  ludicrously  erroneous  notions  about  the  part  which 
some  of  the  scientific  doctrines  current  in  his  time  were 
destined  to  play  in  the  future.     With  these  impressions 


[50  L^T  SERJIONS,  ADDR-ESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [viil 

in  my  mind,  no  one  will  l3e  surprised  if  I  acknowledge 
tliat,  for  these  sixteen  years,  it  has  been  a  periodical 
source  of  irritation  to  me  to  find  M.  Comte  put  forward 
as  a  representative  of  scientific  thought;  and  to  observe 
that  writers  whose  philosophy  had  its  legitimate  parent 
in  Hume,  or  in  themselves,  were  labelled  ^^Comtists"  or 
"Positivists^'  by  public  w^riters,  even  in  spite  of  vehe- 
ment protests  to  the  contrary.  It  has  cost  Mr.  Mill 
hard  rubbings  to  get  that  label  ofi";  and  I  watch  Mr. 
Spencer,  as  one  regards  a  good  man  struggling  with 
adversity,  still  engaged  in  eluding  its  adhesiveness,  and 
ready  to  tear  away  skin  and  all,  rather  than  let  it  stick. 
My  own  turn  might  come  next ;  and  therefore,  when 
an  eminent  prelate  the  other  day  gave  currency  and 
authority  to  the  popular  confusion,  I  took  an  oppor- 
tunity of  incidentally  revindicating  Hume^s  property  in 
the  so-called  ^'New  Philosophy,"  and,  at  the  same  time, 
of  repudiating  Comtism  on  my  own  behalf.-^ 


*  I  am  glad  to  oLserre  that  ]Mr.  Congreve,  in  the  criticism  -u-ith  ■whicli  he 
has  favoured  me  in  the  number  of  the  Fortnightly  Eevieiv  for  April  1869,  does 
not  venture  to  challenge  the  justice  of  the  claim  I  made  for  Hume.  He  merely 
suggests  that  I  have  been  wanting  in  candour  in  not  mentioning  Comte's  high 
opinion  of  Hmne.  After  mature  reflection  I  am  unable  to  discern  my  fault. 
If  I  had  suggested  that  Comte  had  borrowed  from  Hume  without  acknowledg- 
ment ;  or  if,  instead  of  tryiug  to  express  my  own  sense  of  Hume's  merits  witJx 
the  modesty  which  becomes  a  writer  who  has  no  authority  in  matters  of  philo- 
sophy, I  had  affirmed  that  no  one  had  properly  appreciated  him,  Mr.  Congreve's 
remarks  would  apply :  but  as  I  did  neither  of  these  things,  they  api^ear  to 
me  to  be  irrevelant,  if  not  mijustifiable.  And  even  had  it  occurred  to  me  to 
quote  M.  Comte's  expressions  about  Hume,  I  do  not  know  that  I  should  have 
cited  them,  inasmuch  as,  on  his  own  showing,  M.  Comte  occasionally  speaks 
very  decidedly  touching  writers  of  whose  works  he  has  not  read  a  line.  Thus, 
in  Tome  VI,  of  the  "Philosophie  Positive,"  p.  61.9,  M.  Comte  writes:  "Le 
plus  grand  des  metaphysiciens  modernes,  I'illustre  Kant,  a  noblement  merite 
tine  eternelle  admiration  en  tentant,  le  premier,  d'echapper  du-ectement  a 
I'absolu  philo3ophicj[ue  par  sa  celebre  conception  de  la  double  realite,  a  la 
fois  objective  et  subjective,  qui  indique  un  si  juste  sentiment  de  la  saine 
philosophie." 

But  in  the  "  Preface  Personnelle"  in  the  same  volume,  p.  35,  INI.  Comte  tells 
ns  :~"  Je  n'ai  jamais  lu,  en  aucune  laiigue,  ni  Vico,  ni  Kant,  ni  Herder,  si 


nil.]  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  FOSITIVISM.  151 

The  few  lines  devoted  to  Comtlsm  in  my  paper  on  the 
"  Physical  Basis  of  Life ''  were,  in  intention,  strictly 
limited  to  these  two  purposes.  But  they  seem  to  have 
given  more  umbrage  than  I  intended  they  should,  to  the 
followers  of  ]\I.  Comte  in  this  country,  for  some  of  whom, 
let  me  observe  in  passiug,  I  entertain  a  most  unfeigned 
respect ;  and  J\Ir.  Congreve's  recent  article  gives  expres- 
sion to  the  displeasure  which  I  have  excited  among  the 
members  of  the  Comtian  body, 

Mr.  Congreve,  in  a  peroration  which  seems  especially 
intended  to  catch  the  attention  of  his  readers,  indig- 
nantly challenges  me  to  admh^e  M.  Comte's  life,  "to 
deny  that  it  has  a  marked  character  of  grandeur  about 
it  ;^  and  he  uses  some  very  strong  language  because  1 
show  no  sioii  of  veneration  for  his  idoL  I  confess  I  do 
not  care  to  occupy  myself  with  the  denigration  of  a  man  • 
who,  on  the  whole,  deserves  to  be  spoken  of  with  respect. 
Therefore,  I  shall  enter  into  no  statement  of  the  reasons 
which  lead  me  unhesitatingly  to  accept  Mr.  Congreve's 
challenge,  and  to  refuse  to  recognise  anything  which  de- 
serves the  name  of  grandeur  of  character  in  M.  Comte, 
unless  it  be  his  arrogance,  which  is  undoubtedly  sublime. 
All  I  have  to  observe  is,  that  if  Mr.  Congreve  is  justified 
in  saying  that  I  speak  with  a  tinge  of  contempt  for  his 
spiritual  father,  the  reason  for  such  colouring  of  my 
language  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that,  when  I  wrote, 
I  had  but  just  arisen  from  the  perusal  of  a  v>'ork  with 
which  he  is  doubtless  well  acquainted,  11.  Littre's 
''Auguste  Comte  et  la  Philosophie  Positive." 

Though  there  are  tolerably  fixed  standards  of  right 
and  wrong,  and  even   of  generosity  and   meauness,   it 


Hegel,  &c. ;  je  ne  connais  leurs  divers  oii^Trr.gcs  que  d^ipres  quelques  relations 
indirectes  et  certains  extraits  fort  insuffisants." 

WTio  knows  but  that  the  "  &c."  may  include  Euine  ?    And  in  that  cas« 
wLat  is  the  value  of  M.  Comte's  praise  of  Imn? 


152  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  RWIEWS.  [viii. 

may  be  said  that  tlie  beauty,  or  grandeur,  of  a  life  is 
more  or  less  a  matter  of  taste :  and  Mr.  Cono-reve's 
notions  of  literary  excellence  are  so  different  from  mine 
that,  it  may  be,  we  should  diverge  as  widely  in  our 
judgment  of  moral  beauty  or  ugliness.  Therefore,  while 
retaining  my  own  notions,  I  do  not  presume  to  quarrel 
with  his.  But  when  Mr.  Congreve  devotes  a  great  deal 
of  laboriously  guarded  insinuation  to  the  endeavour  to 
lead  the  public  to  believe  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  the 
dishonesty  of  having  criticised  Comte  without  having 
read  him,  I  must  be  permitted  to  remind  him  that  he 
has  neglected  the  well-known  maxim  of  a  diplomatic 
sage,  ''If  you  want  to  damage  a  man,  you  should  say 
what  is  probable,  as  well  as  what  is  true," 

And  when  Mr.  Congreve  speaks  of  my  having  an  ad- 
vantage over  him  in  my  introduction  of  "Christianity" 
into  the  phrase  that  "M.  Comte's  philosophy,  in  practice, 
might  be  described  as  Catholicism  minus  Christianity ;" 
intending  thereby  to  suggest  that  I  have,  by  so  doing, 
desired  to  profit  by  an  appeal  to  the  odium  theologicum, 
— he  lays  himself  open  to  a  very  unpleasant  retort. 

AYhat  if  I  were  to  suggest  that  Mr.  Congreve  had  not 
read  Comte's  works  ;  and  that  the  phrase  "the  context 
shows  that  the  view  of  the  writer  ranges — hovv^ever 
superficially — over  the  whole  works.  This  is  obvious 
from  the  mention  of  Catholicism,"  demonstrates  that 
Mr.  Congreve  has  no  acquaintance  with  the  "  Philosophie 
Positive "1  I  think  the  suggestion  would  be  very  unjust 
and  unmannerly,  and  I  shall  not  m^ake  it.  But  the  fact 
remains,  that  this  little  epigram  of  mine,  Avhich  has  so 
greatly  provoked  Mr.  Congreve,  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  condensed  paraphrase  of  the  following  passage 
which  is  to  be  found  at  page  344  of  the  fifth  volume  of 
the  "Philosophie  Positive  :''^ — 

*  ]!^ow  and  ahvays  I  quote  the  second  edition,  by  Littre. 


yiiL]  THU  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  FOSITIVISM.  153 

*'La  seule  solution  possible  de  ce  grand  probleme  historique,  qui  n'a 
jamais  pii  etre  philosophiquement  pose  jusqu'ici,  consiste  a  conceroir, 
en  sens  radicalement  inverse  des  notions  habituelles,  que  ce  qui  d/evait 
necessairement  perir  ainsi,  dans  le  catholicisme,  (detail  la  doctrine^  et  non 
V organisation,  qui  n'a  ete  passagerement  ruinee  que  par  suite  de  son 
inevitable  adherence  elementaire  a  la  philosopliie  theologique,  destinee 
k  succoniber  graduellement  sous  I'irresistible  emancipaton  de  la  raison 
humaine ;  tandis  qyCune  telle  constitution,  convenahlement  reconstriiite 
sitr  des  bases  intellectuelles  a  la  fois  plus  etendues  et  plus  stables,  devra 
finalement  presider  a  V indispensable  reorganisation  sjnrituelle ,  des 
societes  modernes,  sauf  Us  differences  essentielles  spontanement  corre- 
spondantes  a  V extreme  diversite  des  docti^ines  fondamentales ;  a  moins 
de  supposer,  ce  qui  serait  certainement  contradictoire  a  1' ensemble  des 
lois  de  notre  nature,  que  les  immenses  efforts  de  taut  de  grands 
hommes,  secondes  par  la  perseverante  sollicitude  des  nations  civilisees, 
ians  la  fondation  seculaire  de  ce  chef-d'oeuvre  politique  de  la  sagesse 
humaine,  doivent  etre  enfin  irrevocablement  perdus  pour  1' elite  de 
riiumanite  sauf  les  resultats,  capitaux  mais  provisoires,  qui  s'y  rap- 
portaient  immediatement.  Cette  explication  generale,  dega  evidem- 
ment  motivee  par  la  suite  des  considerations  propres  a  ce  chapitre, 
sera  de  plus  en  plus  confirmee  par  tout  le  reste  de  notre  operation 
historique,  dont  elle  constituera  sponianemoit  la  principale  conclasion 
politique.^' 

Nothing  can  be  clearer.  Comte's  ideal,  as  stated  by 
himself,  is  Catholic  organization  without  Catholic  doc- 
trine, or,  in  other  words,  Catholicism  minus  Christianity. 
Surely  it  is  utterly  unjustifiable  to  ascribe  to  me  base 
motives  for  stating  a  man^s  doctrines,  as  nearly  as  may 
be,  in  his  own  words  ! 

iVly  readers  would  hardly  be  interested  were  I  to  follow 
Mr.  Congreve  any  further,  or  I  might  point  out  that  the 
fact  of  his  not  having  heard  me  lecture  is  hardly  a  safe 
ground  for  his  speculations  as  to  what  I  do  not  teach. 
Nor  do  I  feel  called  upon  to  give  any  opinion  as  to 
M.  Comte's  merits  or  demerits  as  regards  sociology. 
Silr.  Mill  (whose  competence  to  speak  on  these  matters 
I  suppose  will  not  be  questioned,  even  by  Mr.  Congreve) 
has  dealt  with  M.  Comte's  philosophy  from  this  point  of 
view,  w^ith  a  vigour  and  authoritv  to  which  I  cannot  fox 


154  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  iviii. 

a  moment  aspire ;  and  witli  a  severity,  not  nnfrequently 
amounting  to  contempt,  wliicli  I  have  not  the  wish,  if  I 
had  the  power,  to  surpass.  I,  as  a  mere  student  in  these 
questions,  am  content  to  abide  by  Mr.  MilFs  judgment 
until  some  one  shows  cause  for  its  reversal,  and  I  decline 
to  enter  into  a  discussion  which  I  have  not  provoked. 

The  sole  obligation  which  lies  upon  me  is  to  justify  so 
much  as  still  remains  without  justification  of  what  I 
have  written  respecting  Positivism — namely,  the  opinion 
expressed  in  the  following  paragraph  : — 

"  In  so  far  as  my  study  of  Tvliat  specially  characterises  the  Positive 
Philosophy  has  led  me,  I  find  therein  little  or  nothing  of  any  scientific 
value,  and  a  great  deal  which  is  as  thoroughly  antagonistic  to  the  very 
essence  of  science  as  anything  in  ultramontane  Catholicism.'' 

Here  are  two  propositions:  the  first,  that  the  "Phi- 
losophic Positive"  contains  little  or  nothing  of  any 
scientific  value ;  the  second,  that  Comtism  is,  in  spirit, 
anti-scientific.  I  shall  endeavour  to  bring  forward  ample 
evidence  in  support  of  both. 

I.  No  one  who  possesses  even  a  superficial  acquaint- 
ance with  physical  science  can  read  Comte's  "Lecons" 
without  becoming  aware  that  he  was  at  once  singularly 
devoid  of  real  knowledge  on  these  subjects,  and  singu- 
larly unlucky.  What  is  to  be  thought  of  the  contem- 
porary of  Young  and  of  Fresnel,  who  never  misses 
an  opportunity  of  casting  scorn  upon  the  hypothesis 
of  an  ether — the  fundamental  basis  not  only  of  the 
undulatory  theory  of  light,  but  of  so  much  else  in 
modern  physics — and  whose  contempt  for  the  intellects 
of  some  of  the  strongest  men  of  his  generation  was  such, 
that  he  puts  forward  the  mere  existence  of  night  as  a 
refutation  of  the  undulatory  theory  ?  ^  What  a  won- 
derful gauge  of  his  own  value  as  a  scientific  critic  does 
he  afford,  by  whom  we  are  informed  that  phrenology  is 

^  "Philosophie  Positive,"  ii  p.  440. 


viii.J  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  FOSITIFISJI.  155 

a  great  science,  and  psycliologv  a  cliiniDsra  ;  tliat  Gali 
was  one  of  the  great  men  of  his  age,  and  that  Cuviei 
was  "brilliant  but  superficial"!^  How  nnlucky  must 
one  consider  the  bold  speculator  who,  just  before  the 
dawn  of  modern  histology — which  is  simply  the  appli- 
cation of  the  microscope  to  anatomy — reproves  what  he 
calls  "  the  abuse  of  microscopic  investigations,"  and  "  the 
exaofgerated  credit'^  attached  to  them:  who,  when  the 
morphological  uniformity  of  the  tissues  of  the  great 
majority  of  plants  and  animals  was  on  the  eve  of  being 
demonstrated,  treated  with  ridicule  those  who  attempt 
to  refer  all  tissues  to  a  "tissu  generateur,"  formed  by 
"le  chimerique  et  inintelligible  assemblage  d'une  sorte 
de  monades  organiques,  qui  seraient  des  lors  les  vrai& 
elements  primordiaux  de  tout  corps  vivant ; "  ^  and  who 
finally  tells  us,  that  all  the  objections  against  a  linear 
arrans^ement  of  the  species  of  livins; "  beins^s  are  in  their 
essence  foolish,  and  that  the  order  of  the  animal  series  is 
"  necessarily  linear,"  ^  when  the  exact  contrary  is  one  of 
the  best  established  and  the  most  important  truths  of 
zoology.  Appeal  to  mathematicians,  astronomers,  pliysi 
cists,^  chemists,  biologists,  about  the  ''Philosophic  Posi 
tive,"  and  they  all,  with  one  consent,  begin  to  make 
protestation  that,  whatever  M.  Comte's  other  merits,  he 
has  shed  no  light  upon  the  philosophy  of  their  particular 
studies. 

To  be  just,  however,  it  must  be  admitted  that  even 
M.  Comte's  most  ardent  disciples  are  content  to  be 
judiciously  silent  about  his  knowledge  or  appreciation  of 

1  "  Le  "brielant  mail  snperficiel  Cuvier." — Fhilosoiihie,  Fositive,  vi.  p.  383. 

9  "  Pliilosophie  Positive,"  iii.  p.  339.  s  Ibid.  p.  387. 

Hear  the  late  Dr.  Whewell,  who  calls  Comte  "  a  shallow  pretender,"  so 

*as  all  the  modern  sciences,  except  astronomy,  are  concerned,  and  tells  us 
far     "his  pretensions  to  discoveries  are,  as  Sir  John  Herschel  has  shown, 
thatrdly    fallaoicus." — "Comto    and   Positivism"    Macmillan's    Magazine, 
aWih  18G6. 
Marc 


156  l^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [viii. 

tlie  sciences  themselves,  and  prefer  to  base  tlieir  master  s 
claims  to  scientific  authority  upon  his  "law  of  the 
three  states,"  and  his  "  classification  of  the  sciences. " 
But  here,  also,  I  must  join  issue  with  them  as  completely 
as  others — notably  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer — have  clone 
before  me.  A  critical  examination  of  what  M.  Comte 
has  to  say  about  the  "  law  of  the  three  states  "  brings  out 
nothing  but  a  series  of  more  or  less  contradictory  state- 
ments of  an  imperfectly  apprehended  truth ;  and  his  "  clas- 
sification of  the  sciences,"  whether  regarded  historically 
or  logically,  is,  in  my  judgment,  absolutely  worthless. 

Let  us  consider  the  law  of  "the  three  states"  as  it 
is  put  before  us  in  the  opening  of  the  first  Legon  of 
the  "  Philosophic  Positive : " — 

"  En  etudiant  ainsi  le  developpement  total  de  I'intelligence  liumaine 
dans  ses  diverses  spheres  d'activite,  depnis  son  premier  essor  le  plus 
simple  jusqu'a  nos  jours,  je  crois  avoir  decouvert  une  grande  loi 
fondamentale,  a  laquelle  il  est  assujetti  par  une  necessite  invariable,  et 
qui  me  semble  pouvoir  etre  solidement  etablie,  soit  sur  les  preuves 
rationelles  fournies  par  la  connaissance  de  notre  organisation,  soit  sur 
les  verifications  historiques  resultant  d'un  exam  en  attentif  du  passe. 
Cette  loi  consiste  en  ce  que  cliacune  de  nos  conceptions  principales, 
chaque  branclie  de  nos  connaissances,  passe  successivement  par  trois 
etats  tbeoriques  diii'erents  ;  I'etat  theologique,  ou  fictif ;  I'etat  meta- 
pbj^sique,  ou  abstrait ;  ■  I'etat  scientifique,  ou  positif.  En  d'autres 
termes,  I'esprit  humain,  par  sa  nature,  emploie  successivement  dans 
cbacune  de  ses  recherches  trois  methodes  de  philosopher,  dont  le 
caractere  est  essentiellement  different  et  meme  radicalement  oppose ; 
d'abord  la  methode  theologique,  ensuite  la  methode  metaphysique,  et 
enfin  la  methode  positive.  De  la,  trois  sortes  de  philosophie,  ou  de 
systemes  generaux  de  conceptions  sur  I'ensemble  des  phenomenes  qui 
^exduent  mutuellement ;  la  premiere  est  le  point  de  depart  necessaire  de 
Tintelligence  humaine  ;  la  troisieme,  son  etat  fixe  et  definitif ;  la  seconde 
est  uniquement  destinoe  a  servir  de  transition."  ^ 

Nothing  can  be  more  precise  than  these  statements, 
which  may  be  put  into  the  following  propositions : — 
(a)  The  human  intellect  is  subjected  to  the  law  by 

^  *'  Philosophie  Positive,"  i.  pp.  8,  9. 


7III.]  TUE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM,  157 

an  invariable  necessity,  which,  is  demonstrable,  a  priori, 
from  the  natm^e  and  constitution  of  the  intellect ; 
while,  as  a  matter  of  historical  fact,  the  human  in- 
tellect has  been  subjected  to  the  law. 

(6)  Every  branch  of  human  knowledge  passes  through 
the  three  states,  necessarily  beginning  v/ith  the  first 
stage. 

(c)  The  three  states  mutually  exclude  one  another, 
being  essentially  different,  and  even  radically  opposed. 

Two  questions  present  themselves.  Is  M.  Comte 
consistent  with  himself  in  making  these  assertions  1 
And  is  he  consistent  with  fact  ?  I  reply  to  both 
questions  in  the  negative ;  and,  as  regards  the  first, 
I  bring  forward  as  my  witness  a  remarkable  passage 
which  is  to  be  found  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the 
''Philosophic  Positive"  (p.  491),  when  M.  Comte  had 
had  time  to  think  out,  a  little  more  fully,  the  notions 
crudely  stated  in  the  first  volume  : — 

"  A  proprement  parler,  la  pMlosopliie  theologiqne,  meme  dans  notre 
premiere  enfance,  individuelle  ou  sociale,  n'a  jamais  pu  etre  rigoureuse- 
ment  universelle,  *c'est-a-dire  que,  pour  les  ordres  quelconques  de 
phenomenes,  les  faits  les  plus  simples  et  les  2^lus  cominuns  ont  toujour s 
ete  regardes  comme  essentiellement  assujettis  a  des  lois  naturelles,  au  lieu 
d'etre  attribues  a  V arbitraire  volonte  des  agents  surnaturels.  L'illustre 
Adam  Smith  a,  par  exemple,  tres-heureusement  remarque  dans  ses 
essais  philosopliiques,  qu'on  ne  trouvait,  en  aucun  temps  ni  en  aucun 
pays,  un  dieu  pour  la  pesanteur.  II  en  est  ainsi,  en  general^  meme  a 
regard  des  sujets  les  'plus  compliques^  envers  tous  les  phenomenes  assez 
elementaires  et  assez  familiers  pour  que  la  parfaite  invariahilite  de 
leurs  relations  effectives  ait  toujours  dtb  frapper  spontanement  Vobser- 
vateur  le  moins  prepare.  Daus  I'ordre  moral  et  social,  qu'une  vaine 
opposition  voudrait  aujourd'hui  systematiquemcnt  interdire  a  la  phi- 
losophie  positive,  il  y  a  eu  necessairement,  en  tout  temps,  la  pensee 
d(is  lois  naturelles,  relativement  aux  plus  simples  phenomenes  de  la 
vie  journaliere,  comme  I'exige  evidemment  la  conduite  generale  de 
nolle  existence  reelle,  individuelle  ou  sociale,  qui  n'aurait  pu  jamais 
comporter  aueune  prevoyance  quelconque,  si  tous  les  phenomenes 
humains  avaient  ete  rigoureusement  attribues  a  des  agents  surnaturels, 
puisque  des  lors  la  priere  aurait  logiquement  constitue  la  seule  res- 
8 


158  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [via 

source  imaginable  pour  influer  sur  le  coiirs  liabituel  des  actions 
humaines.  On  doit  meme  remavcpier,  a,  ce  sujet,  que  c^est,  au  contraire, 
Vebauclie  iipon.tanee  des  premieres  lois  iiaturelles  propres  aux  actes  indi- 
viduels  ou  sociaux  qui,  fictivement  transportee  b,  tous  les  phenomenes  du 
monde  exterieur,  a  d'ahord  fommi,  dapres  nos  explications  precedentes,  le- 
vrai  principe  fondamental  de  laphilosophie  theologique.  Ainsi^  le  germe 
elementaire  de  la  philosophie  positive  est  certainement  tout  aussi  primiti/ 
au  foud  que  celui  de  la  philosophie  theologique  elle-me?ne,  quoi  qiHil  n^ait 
pu  se  developper  que  heaucoup  plus  tard.  Une  telle  notion  importe 
extremement  a  la  parfaite  rationalite  de  notre  theorie  sociologique,  puis- 
que  la  vie  humaine  ne  pouvant  jamais  ofFrir  aucune  veritable  creation 
quelconque,  mais  toujours  une  simple  evolution  graduelle,  I'essor  final 
de  I'esprit  positif  deviendrait  scientifiquement  incomprehensible,  si, 
d^s  I'origine,  on  n'en  concevait,  a  tous  egards,  les  premiers  rudiments 
necessaires.  Depuis  cette  situation  primitive,  a  mesure  que  nos 
observations  se  sont  spontanement  etendues  et  generalisees,  cet  essor, 
d'abord  a  peine  appreciable,  a  constamment  suivi,  sans  cesser  long- 
temps  d'etre  subalterne,  une  progression  tres-lente,  mais  continue,  la 
philosophie  theologique  restant  toujours  reservee  pour  les  phenomenes, 
de  moins  en  moins  nombreux,  dont  les  lois  naturelles  ne  pouvaient 
encore  etre  aucunement  connues." 

Compare  tlie  propositions  implicitly  laid  clown  here 
with  those  contained  in  the  earlier  volume,  (a)  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  human  intellect  has  not  been 
invariably  subjected  to  the  law  of  the  three  states, 
and  therefore  the  necessity  of  the  law  cannot  be 
demonstrable  ct  2^^^ori.  (/>)  Much  of  our  knowledge 
of  all  kinds  has  not  passed  through  the  three  states, 
and  more  particularly,  as  M.  Comte  is  careful  to  point 
out,  not  through  the  first,  (c)  The  positive  state  has 
more  or  less  co-existed  with  the  theological,  from  the 
dawn  of  human  intelligence.  And,  by  way  of  com- 
pleting the  series  of  contradictions,  the  assertion  that 
the  three  states  are  "  essentially  different  and  even 
radically  opposed,''  is  met  a  little  lower  on  the  same 
page  by  the  declaration  that  "  the  metaphysical  state 
is,  at  bottom,  nothing  but  a  simple  general  modification 
of  the  first  f  while,  in  the  fortieth  Lecon,  as  also  in  the 
interesting  early  essay  entitled  "  Considerations  phUo- 


Till.]  THE  SCIEMTIFiG  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM.  159 

sopliiques  sur  les  Sciences  et  les  Savants  (1825),"  the 
three  states  are  practically  reduced  to  two.  "  Le  veri- 
table esprit  general  de  toute  pbilosophie  theologique 
ou  metaphysique  consiste  a  prendre  pour  principe,  dans 
Texplication  des  plienomenes  du  monde  exterieur,  notre 
sentiment  iramediat  des  phenomenes  humaines ;  tandis 
que  au  contraire,  la  philosopliie  positive  est  toujours 
caracterisee,  non  moins  profondement,  par  la  subordina- 
tion necessaire  et  rationnelle  de  la  conception  de  Tlionime 
a  celle  du  monde.^'  ^ 

I  leave  M.  Comte's  disciples  to  settle  which  of  these 
contradictory  statements  expresses  their  master^s  real 
meaning.  All  I  beg  leave  to  remark  is,  that  men  of 
science  are  not  in  the  habit  of  paying  much  attention 
to  "  laws  "  stated  in  this  fashion. 

The  second  statement  is  undoubtedly  far  more  rational 
and  consistent  with  fact  than  the  first ;  but  I  cannot 
think  it  is  a  just  or  adequate  account  of  the  growth 
of  intelligence,  either  in  the  individual  man,  or  in  the 
human  species.  Any  one  who  will  carefully  watch  the 
development  of  the  intellect  of  a  child  wdll  perceive 
that,  from  the  first,  its  mind  is  mirroring  nature  in  two 
difierent  ways.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  merely  drinking 
in  sensations  and  building  up  associations,  while  it  forms 
conceptions  of  things  and  their  relations  which  are  more 
thoroughly  "  positive,"  or  devoid  of  entanglement  with 
hypotheses  of  any  kind,  than  they  will  ever  be  in  after- 
life. No  child  has  recourse  to  imaginary  personifications 
in  order  to  account  for  tlie  ordinary  properties  of  objects 
which  are  not  alive,  or  do  not  represent  living  things.  It 
does  not  imagine  that  the  taste  of  sugar  is  brought  about 
by  a  god  of  sweetness,  or  that  a  spirit  of  jumping  causes 
a  ball  to  bound.  Such  phaenomena,  which  form  the  basis 
of  a  very  large  part  of  its  ideas,  are  taken  as  matters 

'  "  Philosophie  Positive,"  iii.  p,  188. 


160  LAY  SERMONS,  dD DRESSES,  AND  REVIEW'S.  [viii. 

of  course — as  ultimate  facts  wliicli  suggest  no  difficulty 
and  need  no  explanation  .  So  far  as  all  tliese  common, 
though  important,  phsenomena  are  concerned,  the  child's 
mind  is  in  what  Si.  Comte  would  call  the  "positive'' 
state. 

But,  side  by  side  with  this  mental  condition,  there  rises 
another.  The  child  becomes  aware  of  itself  as  a  source 
of  action  and  a  subject  of  passion  and  of  thought.  The 
acts  which  follow  upon  its  own  desires  are  among  the 
most  interesting  and  prominent  of  surrounding  occur- 
rences ;  and  these  acts,  again,  plainly  arise  either  out  of 
affections  caused  by  surrounding  things  or  of  other 
changes  in  itself  Among  these  surrounding  things,  the 
most  interesting  and  important  are  mother  and  father, 
brethren  and  nurses.  The  hypothesis  that  these  won- 
derful creatures  are  of  like  nature  to  itself  is  speedily 
forced  upon  the  child's  mind  ;  and  this  primitive  piece 
of  anthropomorphism  turns  out  to  be  a  highly  successful 
speculation,  which  finds  its  justification  at  every  turn. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  it  is  extended  to  other  simihuiy 
interesting  objects  which  are  not  too  unlike  these — to 
the  dog,  the  cat,  and  the  canary,  the  doll,  the  toy,  and 
the  picture-book — that  these  are  endowed  with  v/ills  and 
affections,  and  with  capacities  for  being  "good"  and 
"  naughty."  But  surely  it  would  be  a  mere  perversion  of 
lang;ua2;e  to  call  this  a  "  theoloo;ical "  state  of  mind,  either 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  *  theological,"  or  as  con- 
trasted with  "  scientific  "  or  "  positive.''.  The  child  does 
not  worship  either  father  or  mother,  dog  or  doll.  On 
the  contrary,  nothing  is  more  curious  than  the  absolute 
irreverence,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  a  kindly-treated  young- 
child  ;  its  tendency  to  believe  in  itself  as  the  centre 
of  the  universe,  and  its  disposition  to  exercise  despotic 
tyranny  over  those  who  could  crush  it  with  a  finger. 

Still  less  is  there  anything  unscientific,  or  an ti- scientific, 


viii.]  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM,  161 

in  tills  infantile  antliropomorpliism.  The  cliild  observes 
that  many  plisenomena  are  the  consequences  of  affections 
of  itself;  it  soon  has  excellent  reasons  for  the  belief 
that  many  other  phsenomena  are  consequences  of  the 
affections  of  other  beings,  more  or  less  like  itself.  And 
having  thus  good  evidence  for  believing  that  many  of 
the  most  interesting  occurrences  about  it  are  explicable 
on  the  hypothesis  that  they  are  the  work  of  intelligences 
like  itself — having  discovered  a  vera  causa  for  many 
phsenomena — why  should  the  cliild  limit  the  apphcation 
of  so  fruitful  an  hypothesis?  The  dog  has  a  sort  of 
intelligence,  so  as  the  cat ;  why  should  not  the  doll 
and  the  picture-book  also  have  a  share,  proportioned 
to  their  likeness  to  intelligent  things  ? 

The  only  limit  which  does  arise  is  exactly  that  which, 
as  a  matter  of  science,  should  arise ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
anthropomorphic  interpretation  is  applied  only  to  those 
phsenomena  which,  in  their  general  nature,  or  their 
apparent  capriciousness,  resemble  those  which  the  child 
observes  to  be  caused  by  itself,  or  by  beings  like  itself. 
All  the  rest  are  regarded  as  things  which  explain  them- 
selves, or  are  inexplicable. 

It  is  only  at  a  later  stage  of  intellectual  development 
that  the  intelligence  of  man  awakes  to  the  apparent 
conflict  between  the  anthropomorphic,  and  what  I  may 
call  the  physical,-^  aspect  of  nature,  and  either  endeavours 
to  extend  the  anthropomorphic  view  over  the  whole  of 
nature — which  is  the  tendency  of  theology ;  or  to  give 
the  same  exclusive  predominance  to  the  physical  view — 

^  The  word  "positive"  is  in  every  way  ol)jectionable.  In  one  sense  it 
suggests  tliat  mental  quality  wliicli  was  undoubtedly  largely  developed  in 
M.  Comte,  but  can  best  be  dispensed  with  in  a  philosopher  ;  in  another,  it  is 
unfortunate  in  its  application  to  a  system  which  starts  with  enormous  nega- 
tions ;  in  its  third,  and  specially  philosojphical  sense,  as  implying  a  system  of 
tiiought  which  assumes  nothing  beyond  the  content  of  observed  facts,  it 
ianplies  that  which  never  did  exist,  and  never  -will. 


L62  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [viii. 

whicli  is  the  tendency  of  science ;  or  adopts  a  middle 
course,  and  taking  from  the  anthropomorphic  view  its 
tendency  to  personify,  and  from  the  physical  view  its 
tendency  to  exclude  volition  and  affection,  ends  in  what 
M.  Comte  calls  the  "metaphysical"  state — "metaphy- 
sical,'' in  M.  Comte's  writings,  being  a  general  term  of 
abuse  for  anything  he  does  not  like. 

What  is  true  of  the  individual  is,  mutatis  Tntitandis, 
true  of  the  intellectual  development  of  the  species.  It 
is  absurd  to  say  of  men  in  a  state  of  primitive  savagery, 
that  all  their  conceptions  are  in  a  theological  state. 
Nine-tenths  of  them  are  eminently  realistic,  and  as 
"  positive  "  as  ignorance  and  narrowness  can  make  them. 
It  no  more  occurs  to  a  savage  than  it  does  to  a  child, 
to  ask  the  why  of  the  daily  and  ordinary  occurrences 
which  form  the  greater  part  of  his  mental  life.  But 
in  regard  to  the  more  striking,  or  out-of-the-way,  events, 
which  force  him  to  speculate,  he  is  highly  anthropo- 
morphic ;  and,  as  compared  with  a  child,  his  anthropo- 
morphism is  complicated  by  the  intense  impression 
which  the  death  of  his  own  kind  makes  upon  him, 
as  indeed  it  well  may.  The  warrior,  full  of  ferocious 
energy,  perhaps  the  despotic  chief  of  his  tribe,  is 
suddenly  struck  down.  A  child  may  insult  the  man 
a  moment  before  so  awful ;  a  fly  rests,  undisturbed,  on 
the  lips  from  which  undisputed  command  issued.  And 
yet  the  bodily  aspect  of  the  man  seems  hardly  more 
altered  than  when  he  slept,  and,  sleeping,  seemed  to 
himself  to  leave  his  body  and  wander  through  dream- 
land. What  then  if  that  something,  which  is  the  essence 
of  the  man,  has  really  been  made  to  wander  by  the 
violence  done  to  it,  and  is  unable,  or  has  forgotten, 
to  come  back  to  its  shell?  Will  it  not  retain  some- 
what of  the  powers  it  possessed  during  life  ?  May 
it  not   help  us  if  it   be   pleased,  or  (as   seems   to   be 


rjTi.j  THE  SCIENTIFIG  ASPECTS  OF  FOSITIFISJf.  1G3 

by  far  tlie  more  genera]  impression)  hurt  us  if  it  be 
angered  ?  Will  it  not  be  well  to  do  towards  it  those 
things  which  would  have  soothed  the  man  and  put 
him  in  good  humour  during  his  life?  It  is  impossible 
to  study  trustworthy  accounts  of  savage  thought  with- 
out seeing  that  some  such  train  of  ideas  as  this  lies  at 
the  bottom  of  their  speculative  beliefs. 

There  are  savages  without  God,  in  any  proper  sense 
of  the  word,  but  none  without  ghosts,  And  the  Fetish- 
ism, Ancestor-worship,  Hero-worship,  and  Demonology 
of  primitive  savages,  are  all,  I  believe,  different  manners 
of  expression  of  their  belief  in  ghosts,  and  of  the 
anthropomorphic  interpretation  of  out-of-the-way  events, 
which  is  its  concomitant.  AVitchcraft  and  sorcery  are 
the  practical  expressions  of  these  beliefs;  and  they 
stand  in  the  same  relation  to  religious  worship  as  the 
simple  anthropomorphism  of  children,  or  savages,  does 
to  theology. 

In  the  progress  of  the  species  from  savagery  to 
advanced  civilization,  anthropomorphism  grows  into 
theology,  while  physicism  (if  I  may  so  call  it)  develops 
into  science ;  but  the  development  of  the  two  is  con- 
temporaneous, not  successive.  For  each,  there  long 
exists  an  assured  province  which  is  not  invaded  by 
the  other  ;  while,  between  the  two,  lies  a  debateable  land, 
ruled  by  a  sort  of  bastards,  who  owe  their  complexion 
to  physicism  and  their  substance  to  anthropomorphism, 
and  are  M.  Comte's  particular  aversions — metaphysical 
entities. 

But,  as  the  ages  lengthen,  the  borders  of  Physicism 
increase.  The  territories  of  the  bastards  are  all  annexed 
to  science ;  and  even  Theology,  in  her  purer  forms, 
has  ceased  to  be  anthropomorphic,  however  she  may 
talk.  Anthropomorphism  has  taken  stand  in  its  last 
fortress — man  himselL     But  science  closely  invests  the 


164  ^^^  SI:RM0NS,  JDBBESSES,  and  reviews,  [viiL 

walls ;  and  Philosophers  gird  themselves  for  battle 
upon  the  last  and  greatest  of  all  speculative  problems- 
Does  human  nature  possess  any  free,  volitional,  or  truly 
anthropomorphic  element,  or  is  it  only  the  cunningest 
of  all  Nature's  clocks  ?  Some,  among  whom  I  count 
myself,  think  that  the  battle  will  for  ever  remain  a 
drawn  one,  and  that,  for  all  practical  purposes,  this  result 
is  as  good  as  anthropomorphism  winning  the  day. 

The  classification  of  the  sciences,  which,  in  the  eyes 
of  M.  Comte's  adherents,  constitutes  his  second  great 
claim  to  the  dignity  of  a  scientific  philosopher,  appears 
to  me  to  be  open  to  just  the  same  objections  as  the 
law  of  the  three  states.  It  is  inconsistent  in  itself,  and 
it  is  inconsistent  with  fact.  Let  us  consider  the  main 
points  of  this  classification  successively  : — ■ 

"  II  faut  distingner  par  rapport  a  tons  les-  ordres  des  plienomenes, 
deux  genres  de  sciences  naturelles ;  les  unes  abstraites,  generales,  ont 
pour  objet  la  decouverte  des  lois  qui  regissent  les  diverses  classes  de 
plienomenes,  en  considerant  tons  les  cas  qu'on  pent  concevoir;  les 
autres  concretes,  particulieres,  descriptives,  et  qn'on  designe  quelquefois 
sons  le  nom  des  sciences  natnrelles  proprement  dites,  consistent  dans 
I'application  de  ces  lois  a  I'liistoire  effective  des  differents  etres 
existants."  ^ 

The  "  abstract"  sciences  are  subsequently  said  to  be 

mathematics,  astronomy,  physics,  chemistry,  physiology, 

and  social  physics  —  the  titles  of  the  two  latter  being 

subsequently   changed   to    biology   and   sociology.       M. 

Comte  exemplifies  the  distinction  between  his  abstract 

and  his  concrete  sciences  as  follows  : — 

*'  On  ponrra  d'abord  Tapercevoir  tres-nettement  en  comparant,  d'une 
part,  la  physiologie  generate,  et  d'une  autre  part  la  zoologie  et  la 
botanique  proprement  dites.  Ce  sont  evidemment,  en  effet,  deux 
travaux  d'un  caractere  fort  distinct,  que  d'etudier,  en  general,  les  lois 
de  la  vie,  on  de  determiner  le  mode  d'existence  de  chaque  corps  vivant, 
en  particulier.  Cette  secov.de  etvde,  en  outre,  est  necessairemcnt  fondet 
sur  la  previiiere" — P.  57. 

»  "  Pliilosopliie  PoKitive,"  i.  p.  53 


Till.]  mE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM.  165 

All  the  unreality  and  mere  bookishness  of  M.  Comte's 
knowledge  of  pliysical  science  comes  out  in  the  passage 
I  have  italicised.  "  The  special  study  of  living  beings 
is  based  upon  a  general  study  of  the  laws  of  life!'' 
What  little  I  know  about  the  matter  leads  me  to  think 
that,  if  M.  Conite  had  possessed  the  slightest  practical 
acquaintance  with  biological  science,  he  would  have 
turned  his  phraseology  upside  down,  and  have  perceived 
that  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of  the  general  laws 
of  life,  except  that  wdiich  is  based  upon  the  study  of 
particular  living  beings. 

The  illustration  is  surely  unluckily  chosen  ;  but  the 
language  in  which  these  so-called  abstract  sciences  are 
defined  seems  to  me  to  be  still  more  open  to  criticism. 
With,  what  pro|)riety  can  astronomy,  or  physics,  or 
chemistry,  or  biology,  be  said  to  occupy  themselves 
with  the  consideration  of  *'  all  conceivable  cases'''  which 
fall  within  their  respective  provinces  ?  Does  the  as- 
tronomer occupy  himself  with  any  other  system  of  the 
universe  than  that  which  is  visible  to  him '?  Does  he 
speculate  upon  the  possible  movements  of  bodies  which 
may  attract  one  another  in  the  inverse  proportion  of  the 
cube  of  their  distances,  say?  Does  biology,  whether 
"abstract"  or  "concrete,"  occupy  itself  with  any  other 
form  of  life  than  those  which  exist,  or  have  existed  ? 
And,  if  the  abstract  sciences  embrace  all  conceivable 
cases  of  the  operation  of  the  laws  with  wdiich  they 
are  concerned,  would  not  they,  necessarily,  embrace  the 
subjects  of  the  concrete  sciences,  which,  inasmuch  as 
they  exist,  must  needs  be  conceivable  ?  In  fact,  no  such 
distinction  as  that  which  M.  Comte  draws  is  tenable. 
The  first  stage  of  his  classification  breaks  by  its  own 
weio^ht. 

But  granting  M.  Comte  his  six  abstract  sciences,  he 
proceeds  to   arrange  them   according   to  what  he  calk 


166  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [viii. 

their  natural  order  or  Merarcliy,  tlicir  places  in  this 
hierarchy  bein;^  determined  by  the  degree  of  generality 
and  simplicity  of  the  conceptions  with  which  they 
deal.  Mathematics  occupies  the  first,  astronomy  the 
second,  physics  the  third,  chemistry  the  fourth,  biology 
the  fifth,  and  sociology  the  sixth  and  last  place  in  the 
series.  M.  Comte's  arguments  in  favour  of  this  classi- 
fication are  first — 

**  Sa  conformite  essentielle  avec  la  co-ordination,  en  qnelqne  sorte 
spontanee,  qui  se  tronve  en  effet  implicitement  admise  par  les  savants 
livres  a  I'etude  dea  diverse  branches  de  la  ptiilosopliie  natiu?elle." 

But  I  absolutely  deny  the  existence  of  this  conformity. 
If  there  is  one  thing  clear  about  the  progress  of  modern 
science,  it  is  the  tendency  to  reduce  all  scientific 
problems,  except  those  which  are  purely  mathematical, 
to  questions  of  molecular  physics — that  is  to  say,  to 
the  attractions,  repulsions,  motions,  and  co-ordination 
of  the  ultimate  particles  of  matter.  Social  phsenomena 
are  the  result  of  the  inreraction  of  the  components  of 
society,  or  men,  with  one  another  and  the  surrounding 
imiverse.  But,  in  the  language  of  physical  science, 
which,  uy  the  nature  of  the  case,  is  materialistic,  the 
actions  of  men,  so  fiir  as  they  are  recognisable  by 
science,  are  the  results  of  molecular  changes  in  the 
ma-ter  of  which  they  are  composed  ;  and,  in  the  long 
run,  these  must  come  into  the  hands  of  the  physicial. 
A  fortiori,  the  phsenomena  of  biology  and  of  chemistry 
are,  in  their  ultimate  analysis,  questions  of  molecular 
physics.  Indeed,  the  fact  is  acknowledged  by  all 
chemists  and  biologists  who  look  beyond  their  imme- 
diate occupations.  And  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the 
phsenomena  of  biology  are  as  directly  and  immediately  con- 
nected with  molecular  physics  as  are  those  of  chemistry. 
Molar   physics,    chemistry,    and   biology   are   not   three 


fiii.J  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM.  16  7 

successive  steps  in  the  ladder  of  knowledge,  as  M. 
Comte  would  have  us  believe,  but  three  branches 
springing  from  the  common  stem  of  molecular  physics. 

As  to  astronomy,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  how 
any  one  who  will  give  a  moment's  attention  to  the 
nature  of  the  science  can  fail  to  see  that  it  consists  of 
two  parts  :  first,  of  a  description  of  the  phsenomena, 
which  is  as  much  entitled  as  descriptive  zoology,  or 
botany,  is,  to  the  name  of  natural  history  ;  and,  secondly, 
of  an  explanation  of  the  phaenomena,  furnished  by  the 
laws  of  a  force — gravitation — the  study  of  which  is  as 
much  a  part  of  physics,  as  is  that  of  heat,  or  electricity. 
It  would  be  just  as  reasonable  to  make  the  study  of 
the  heat  of  the  sun  a  science  preliminary  to  the  rest 
of  thermotics,  as  to  place  the  study  of  the  attraction  of 
the  bodies,  which  compose  the  universe  in  general, 
before  that  of  the  particular  terrestrial  bodies,  which 
alone  we  can  experimentally  know.  Astronomy,  in  fact, 
owes  its  perfection  to  the  circumstance  that  it  is  the 
only  branch  of  natural  history,  the  phsenomena  of  which 
are  largely  expressible  by  mathematical  conceptions, 
and  which  can  be,  to  a  great  extent,  explained  by  the 
application  of  very  simple  physical  laws. 

With  regard  to  mathematics,  it  is  to  be  observed,  in 
the  first  place,  that  M.  Comte  mixes  up  under  that 
head  the  pure  relations  of  space  and  of  quantity,  which 
are  properly  included  under  the  name,  with  rational 
mechanics  and  statics,  which  are  mathematical  deve- 
lopments of  the  most  general  conceptions  of  physics, 
namely,  the  notions  of  force  and  of  motion.  Eelegating 
these  to  their  proper  place  in  physics,  we  have  left  pure 
mathematics,  which  can  stand  neither  at  the  head,  nor 
at  the  tail,  of  any  hierarchy  of  the  sciences,  since,  like 
logic,  it  is  equally  related  to  all ;  though  the  enormous 
practical  difficulty  of  applying  mathematics  to  the  more 


168  LAY  SERMONS,  JDDHESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [viii. 

complex  plia3nomena  of  nature  removes  them,  for  the 
present,  out  of  its  sphere. 

On  this  subject  of  mathematics,  again,  M.  Comte 
indulges  in  assertions  which  can  only  be  accounted  for 
by  his  total  ignorance  of  physical  science  practically. 
As  for  example  : — 

"C'est  done  par  I'etude  des  mathematiqiies,  et  seulement  par  elle, 
que  Ton  pent  se  faire  ime  idee  juste  et  aiDprofondie  de  ce  que  c'est 
qu'une  science.  C^est  la  imiquement  qu'on  doit  chercher  a  connaitre 
avec  precision  la  methodx  generale  que  Veqjrit  humain  emploie  constam- 
ment  dans  toutes  ses  recherches  positives,  parce  que  nulle  part  ailleurs 
les  questions  ne  sont  resolues  q'une  nmniere  aussi  complete  et  les 
deductions  prolongees  aussi  loin  avec  une  severite  rigoureuse.  C'est 
la  ^galement  que  notre  entendement  a  donne  les  plus  grandes  preuves 
de  sa  force,  parce  que  les  idees  qu'il  j  considere  sont  du  plus  baut 
degre  d'abstraction  possible  dans  I'ordre  positif.  Toute  education 
scientifigue  qui  ne  commence  point  par  une  telle  etude  peche  done  neces- 
sairement  par  sa  base."  ^ 

That  is  to  say,  the  only  study  which  can  confer  "a  just 
and  comprehensive  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  science,^' 
and,  at  the  same  time,  furnish  an  exact  conception  of 
the  general  method  of  scientific  investigation,  is  that 
which  knows  nothing  of  observation,  nothing  of  experi- 
ment, nothing  of  induction,  nothing  of  causation  !  And 
education,  the  whole  secret  of  which  consists  in  proceed- 
ing from  the  easy  to  the  difficult,  the  concrete  to  the 
abstract,  ought  to  be  turned  the  other  way,  and  pass 
from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete. 

M.  Comte  puts  a  second  argument  in  favour  of  his 
hierarchy  of  the  sciences  thus  : — 

"Un  second  caractere  tres-essentiel  de  notre  classification,  c'est 
d'etre  necessairement  conforme  a  I'ordre  effectif  du  developpement  de 
la  philosophie  naturelle.  C'est  ce  que  verifie  tout  ce  qu'on  sait  do 
riiistoire  des  sciences."  ^ 

But  Mr.  Spencer  has  so  thoroughly  and  completely 
demonstrated  the  absence  of  any  correspondence  between 

'  **riiilosophie  Positive,"  i  p.  99.  2  ii^i^^^  i  p,  77, 


viu.]  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  FOSITIFISM.  169 

the  historical  clevelopment  of  the  sciences,  and  their 
position  in  the  Comtean  hierarchy,  in  his  essay  on  the 
"Genesis  of  Science,"  that  I  shall  not  waste  time  in 
repeating  his  refutation, 

A  third  proposition  in  support  of  the  Comtean  classi- 
fication of  the  sciences  stands  as  follows: — 

"En  troisieme  lien  cette  classification  presente  la  propriete  tr^s- 
remarquable  de  marquer  exactement  la  perfection  relative  des  diffe- 
rentes  sciences,  laquelle  consiste  essentiellement  dans  le  degre  de 
precision  des  connaissances  et  dans  leur  co-ordination  plus  on  moins 
intime."  ^ 

I  am  quite  unable  to  understand  the  distinction  which 
M.  Comte  endeavours  to  draw  in  this  passage  in  spite 
of  his  amplifications  further  on.  Every  science  must 
consist  of  precise  knowledge,  and  that  knowledge  must 
be  co-ordinated  into  general  proportions,  or  it  is  not 
science.  When  M.  Comte,  in  exemplification  of  the 
statement  I  have  cited,  says  that  "les  phenomenes 
organiques  ne  comportent  qu'une  etude  a  la  fois  moins 
exacte  et  moins  systematique  que  les  phenomenes  des 
corps  bruts,"  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  what  he 
means.  If  I  affirm  that  ''when  a  motor  nerve  is  irri- 
tated, the  muscle  connected  with  it  becomes  simultane- 
ously shorter  and  thicker,  without  changing  its  volume," 
it  appears  to  me  that  the  statement  is  as  precise  or  exact 
(and  not  merely  as  true)  as  that  of  the  physicist  who 
should  say,  that  ''when  a  piece  of  iron  is  heated,  it 
l)ecomes  simultaneously  longer  and  thicker  and  increases 
in  volume ;"  nor  can  I  discover  any  difi'erence,  in  point 
of  precision,  between  the  statement  of  the  morphological 
law  that,  *' animals  which  suckle  their  young  have  two 
occipital  condyles,"  and  the  enunciation  of  the  physical 
law  that  "water  subjected  to  electrolysis  is  replaced  by 
an  equal  weight  of  the  gases,  oxygen  and   hydrogen/^ 

*  "Philosophie  Positive,"!,  p.  73 


170  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REfiEWS.  [viii. 

A.S  for  anatomical  or  physiological  investigation  being 
less  "systematic"  than  that  of  the  physicist  or  chemist, 
the  assertion  is  simply  unaccountable.  The  methods  of 
physical  science  are  everywhere  the  same  in  principle, 
and  the  physiological  investigator  who  was  not  *' sys- 
tematic ''  would,  on  the  whole,  break  down  rather  sooner 
than  the  inquirer  into  simpler  subjects. 

Thus  M.  Comte's  classification  of  the  sciences,  under 
all  its  aspects,  appears  to  me  to  be  a  complete  failure. 
It  is  impossible,  in  an  article  which  is  already  too  long, 
to  inquire  how  it  may  be  replaced  by  a  better ;  and  it  is 
the  less  necessary  to  do  so,  as  a  second  edition  of  Mr. 
Spencers  remarkable  essay  on  this  subject  has  just  been 
published.  After  wading  through  pages  of  the  long- 
winded  confusion  and  second-hand  iiif  mation  of  the 
"Philosophic  Positive,"  at  the  risk  of  a  crise  cerehrale — 
it  is  as  good  as  a  shower-bath  to  turn  to  the  "Classi- 
fication of  the  Sciences,"  and  refresh  oneself  with  Mr. 
SpeDcer's  profound  thought,  precise  knowledge,  and  clear 
lanffuaore. 

II.  The  second  proposition  to  which  I  have  committed 
myself,  in  the  paper  to  which  I  have  been  obliged  to 
refer  so  often,  is,  that  the  "Positive  Philosophy"  contains 
"  a  great  deal  which  is  as  thoroughly  antagonistic  to  the 
very  essence  of  science  as  is  anything  in  ultramontane 
Catholicism." 

AYhat  I  refer  to  in  these  words,  is,  on  the  one  hand 
the  doocmatism  and  narrowness  which  so  often  mark 
M.  Comte's  discussion  of  doctrines  which  he  does  not 
like,  and  reduce  his  expressions  of  opinion  to  mere 
passionate  puerilities ;  as,  for  example,  when  he  is 
arguing  against  the  assumption  of  an  ether,  or  when 
he  is  talking  (I  cannot  call  it  arguing)  against  pyscho- 
lugy,  or  political  economy.  On  the  other  hand,  I  allude 
to  the  spirit  of  meddling  systematization  and  regulatioD 


VIII.]  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM,  171 

wliich  animates  even  the  "  Philosopliie  Positive,"  and 
breaks  out,  in  tlie  latter  volumes  of  that  work,  into  no 
uncertain  foreshadowing  of  the  anii-scientific  monstro- 
sities of  Comte's  later  writings. 

Those  who  try  to  draAV  a  line  of  demarcation  between 
the  spiiit  of  the  **  Philosophie  Positive,"  and  that  of 
the  "Politique''  and  its  successors,  (if  I  may  express 
an  opinion  from  fragmentary  knowledge  of  these  last,) 
must  have  overlooked,  or  forgotten,  what  Comte  himself 
labours  to  show,  and  indeed  succeeds  in  proving,  in 
the  *'Appendice  General"  of  the  *' Politique  Positive/' 
"Des  mon  debut,"  he  writes,  **je  tentai  de  ^fonder  \q 
nouveau  pouvoir  spirituel  que  j'institue  anjourd'hui." 
*'Ma  politique,  loin  d'etre  aucunement  opposee  a  ma 
philosophic,  en  constitue  tellement  la  suite  naturelle 
que  celle-ci  fut  directement  instituee  pour  scrvir  de  base 
a  celle-]a   comme  le  prouve  cet  appendice."  ^ 

This  is  quite  true.  In  the  remarkable  essay  entitled 
"Considerations  sur  le  Ponvoir  spirituel,"  published  in 
March  1826,  Comte  advocates  the  establishment  of  a 
"  modern  spiritual  power,"  which,  he  anticipates,  may 
exercise  an  even  greater  influcLce  over  temporal  affairs, 
than  did  the  Catholic  clergy,  at  the  height  of  their 
vigour  and  independence,  in  the  twelfth  century.  This 
spiritual  power  is,  in  fact,  to  govern  opinion,  and  to 
have  the  supreme  control  over  education,  in  each 
nation  of  the  West;  and  the  spiritual  powers  of  the 
several  European  peoples  are  to  be  associated  together 
and  placed  under  a  common  direction  or  "  souverainete 
spirituel]  e." 

A  system  of  "Catholicism  minus  Christianity"  was 
therefore  completely  organized  in  Comte's  mind,  four 
years  before  the  first  volume  of  the  "Philosophic 
Positive  "  vras  written ;  and,  naturally,  the  papal  spirit 

1  Log.  cit.,  Preface  Speciale,  pp.  i  ii 


L  72  L^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [viii. 

sliows  itself  in  tliat  work,  not  only  in  tlie  ways  I 
have  already  mentioned,  but,  notably,  in  the  attack 
on  liberty  of  conscience  wliich  breaks  out  in  the  fourth 
volume  : — • 


*'I1  n'y  a  point  cle  lilDerte  cle  conscience  en  astronomie,  en  physique, 
en  chimie,  en  physiologie  meme,  en  ce  sens  que  chacun  trouverait 
absurde  de  ne  pas  croire  de  coniiance  aux  principes  etablis  dans  les 
sciences  x^ar  les  homines  competents." 


"  Nothing  in  ultramontane  Catholicism "  can,  in  my 
judgment,  be  more  completely  sacerdotal,  more  entirely 
anti-scientific,  than  this  dictum.  All  the  great  steps  in 
the  advancement  of  science  have  been  made  by  just 
those  men  who  have  not  hesitated  to  doubt  the  "prin- 
ciples established  in  the  sciences  by  competent  persons ; " 
and  the  great  teaching  of  science — the  great  use  of  it  as 
an  instrument  of  mental  discipline — is  its  constant  incul- 
cation of  the  maxim,  that  the  sole  ground  on  which  any 
statement  has  a  right  to  be  believed  is  the  impossibility 
of  refuting  it. 

Thus,  without  travelling  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
"Philosophic  Positive,''  we  find  its  author  contempla- 
ting the  establishm±ent  of  a  system  of  society,  in  which 
an  organized  spiritual  power  shall  over-ride  and  direct 
the  temporal  power,  as  completely  as  the  Innocents  and 
Gregorys  tried  to  govern  Europe  in  the  middle  ages ;  and 
repudiating  the  exercise  of  liberty  of  conscience  against 
the  "  hommes  com]pete-nts,''  of  whom,  by  the  assump- 
tion, the  new  priesthood  would  be  composed.  Was 
Mr.  Congreve  as  forgetful  of  this,  as  he  seems  to  have 
been  of  some  other  parts  of  the  "  Philosophic  Positive," 
when  he  wrote,  that  "in  any  limited,  careful  use  of 
the  term,  no  candid  man  could  say  that  the  Positive 
Philosophy  contained  a  great  deal  as  thoroughly  anta- 


VIII. J  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  POSITIVISM.  I73 

gonistic   to   [the  very  essence  of^]  science   as    Catholi- 
cism "  ? 

M.  Comte,  it  will  have  been  observed,  desires  to  retain 
the  whole  of  Catholic  organization ;  and  the  logical 
practical  result  of  this  part  of  his  doctrine  wonld  be 
the  establishment  of  something  corresponding  with  that 
eminently  Catholic,  but  admittedly  anti-scientific,  insti- 
tution— the  Holy  Office. 

I  hope  I  have  said  enough  to  show  that  I  wrote  the  few 
lines  I  devoted  to  M.  Comte  and  his  philosophy,  neither 
unguardedly  nor  ignorantly,  still  less  maliciously.  I 
shall  be  sorry  if  what  I  have  now  added,  in  my  own 
justification,  should  lead  any  to  supdose  that  I  think 
M.  Comte^s  works  worthless ;  or  that  I  do  not  heartily 
respect,  and  sympathise  wdth,  those  who  have  been  im- 
pelled by  him  to  think  deeply  upon  social  problems, 
and  to  strive  nobly  for  social  regeneration.  It  is  the 
virtue  of  that  impulse,  I  believe,  which  will  save 
the  name  and  fame  of  Auguste  Comte  from  oblivion. 
As  for  his  philosophy,  I*  part  v/ith  it  by  quoting 
his  own  words,  reported  to  me  by  a  quondam  Comtist, 
now  an  eminent  member  of  the  Institute  of  France, 
M.  Charles  Eobin : — 

"La  Philosopliie  est  une tentative  incessante  de  Tesprit  liumain  pour 
arriver  au  repos  :  mais  elle  se  trouve  incessamnent  aussi  derangee  par 
les  progres  continus  de  la  science.  De  la  vient  pour  le  philosophe 
I'obligation  de  refaire  chaque  soir  la  syntliese  de  ses  conceptions ;  et 
un  jour  viendra  oii  I'liomnie  raisonnable  ne  fera  plus  d'autre  priere 
du  soir." 

*  Mr.  Congreve  leaves  out  these  important  words,  wticli  show  that  I  refci 
to  the  tjpirit,  and  not  to  the  details  of  science. 


IX. 
A    PIECE    OF    CHALK. 

A  LECTUHE   TO   WOUKI^^G   MEN". 

Iff  a  well  were  to  be  sunk  at  our  feet  in  tlie  midst  of 
the  city  of  Norwieb,  the  diggers  would  very  soon  find 
themselves  at  work  in  that  white  substance  almost  too 
soft  to  be  called  rock,  with  which  we  are  all  familiar  as 
"chalk." 

Not  only  here,  but  over  the  whole  county  of  Norfolk, 
the  well-sinker  might  carry  his  shaft  down  many  hundred 
feet  without  coming  to  the  end  of  the  chalk  ;  and,  on 
the  sea-coast,  where  the  waves  have  pared  away  the 
face  of  the  land  which  breasts  them,  the  scarped  faces 
of  the  hiofh  cliffs  are  often  whoUv  formed  of  the  same 
material.  Northward,  the  chalk  may  be  followed  as  far 
as  Yorkshire ;  on  the  south  coast  it  appears  abruptly 
in  the  picturesque  west  embays  of  Dorset,  and  breaks 
into  the  Needles  of  the  Isle  of  Wight;  while  on  the 
shores  of  Kent  it  supplies  that  long  line  of  white  cliffs 
to  which  England  owes  her  name  of  Albion. 

Were  the  thin  soil  which  covers  it  all  washed  away, 
a  curved  band  of  white  chalk,  here  broader,  and  there 
narrower,  might  be  followed  diagonally  across  England 
from    Lulworth   in   Dorset,   to    Flamborough   Head    in 


s.]  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  175 

Yorksliire — a  distance  of  over  280  miles  as  the  crow 
flies. 

From  tliis  band  to  the  Nortli  Sea,  on  the  east,  and  the 
Channel,  on  the  south,  the  chalk  is  largely  hidden  by 
other  deposits ;  but,  except  in  the  Weald  of  Kent  and 
Sussex,  it  enters  into  the  very  foundation  of  all  the 
south-eastern  counties. 

Attaining,  as  it  does  in  some  places,  a  thickness  of 
more  than  a  thousand  feet,  the  English  chalk  must  be 
admitted  to  be  a  mass  of  considerable  magnitude. 
Nevertheless,  it  covers  but  an  insignificant  portion  of 
the  whole  area  occupied  by  the  chalk  formation  of  the 
globe,  which  has  precisely  the  same  general  characters 
as  ours,  and  is  found  in  detached  patches,  some  less, 
and  others  more  extensive,  than  the  English. 

Chalk  occurs  in  north-west  Ireland ;  it  stretches  over 
a  large  part  of  France, — the  chalk  which  underlies  Paris 
being,  in  fact,  a  continuation  of  that  of  the  London 
basin ;  it  runs  through  Denmark  and  Central  Europe,  and 
extends  southward  to  North  Africa ;  while  eastward,  it 
appears  in  the  Crimea  and  in  Syria,  and  may  be  traced 
as  far  as  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  Aral,  in  Central  Asia. 

If  all  the  points  at  which  true  chalk  occurs  were 
circumscribed,  they  would  lie  within  an  irrregular  oval 
about  3,000  miles  in  long  diameter — the  area  of  which 
would  be  as  great  as  that  of  Europe,  and  would  many 
times  exceed  that  of  the  largest  existing  inland  sea — 
the  Mediterranean. 

Thus  the  chalk  is  no  unimportant  element  in  the 
masonry  of  the  earth's  crust,  and  it  impresses  a  peculiar 
stamp,  varying  with  the  conditions  to  which  it  is 
exposed,  on  the  scenery  of  the  districts  in  which  it 
occurs.  The  undulating  downs  and  rounded  coombs, 
covered  with  sweet-grassed  turf,  of  our  inland  chalk 
country,    have    a    peacefully    domestic     and    mutton- 


176  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [ix. 

suggesting  prettiness,  but  can  liardly  be  called  either 
grand  or  beautiful.  But  on  our  southern  coasts,  the 
wall-sided  cliffs,  many  hundred  feet  high,  with  vast 
needles  and  pinnacles  standing  out  in  the  sea,  sharp 
and  solitary  enough  to  serve  as  perches  for  the  wary 
cormorant,  confer  a  wonderful  beauty  and  grandeur 
upon  the  chalk  headlands.  And,  in  the  East,  chalk  has 
its  share  in  the  formation  of  some  of  the  most  venerable 
of  mountain  ranges,  such  as  the  Lebanon. 

What  is  this  wide-spread  component  of  the  surface  of 
the  earth  ?   and  whence  did  it  come  ? 

You  may  think  this  no  very  hopeful  inquiry.  You 
may  not  unnaturally  suppose  that  the  attempt  to  solve 
such  problems  as  these  can  lead  to  no  result,  save  that 
of  entangling  the  inquirer  in  vague  speculations,  in- 
capable of  refutation  and  of  verification. 

If  such  were  really  the  case,  I  should  have  selected 
some  other  subject  than  a  ''piece  of  chalk ^'  for  my 
discourse.  But,  in  truth,  after  much'  deliberation,  I 
have  been  unable  to  think  of  any  topic  which  would  so 
well  enable  me  to  lead  vou  to  see  how  solid  is  the  foun- 
dation  upon  which  some  of  the  most  startling  conclusions 
of  physical  science  rest. 

A  great  chapter  of  the  history  of  the  world  is  written 
in  the  chalk.  Few  passages  in  the  history  of  man  can 
be  supported  by  such  an  overwhelming  mass  of  direct 
and  indirect  evidence  as  that  which  testifies  to  the  truth 
of  the  fragment  of  the  history  of  the  globe,  which  I  hope 
to  enable  you  to  read,  with  your  own  eyes,  to-night. 

Let  me  add,  that  few  chapters  of  human  history  have 
a  more  profound  significance  for  ourselves.  I  weigh 
my  words  well  when  I  assert,  that  the  man  who  should 
know  the  true  history  of  the  bit  of  chalk  which  every 
carpenter    carries  about  in  his  breeches-pocket,  though 


13.]  ON  A  FIECE  OF  CHALK,  177 

ignorant  of  all  otlier  history,  is  likely,  if  he  will  think 
his  knowledo^e  out  to  its  ultimate  results,  to  have  a  truer, 
and  therefore  a  better,  conception  of  this  wonderful 
universe,  and  of  man's  relation  to  it,  than  the  most 
learned  student  who  is  deep-read,  in  the  records  of 
humanity  and.  ignorant  of  those  of  Nature. 

The  language  of  the  chalk  is  not  hard  to  learn,  not 
nearly  so  hard  as  Latin,  if  you  only  want  to  get  at  the 
broad  features  of  the  story  it  has  to  tell ;  and  I  pro- 
pose that  we  now  set  to  work  to  spell  that  story  out 
together. 

We  all  know  that  if  we  "  burn "  chalk  the  result 
is  quicklime.  Chalk,  in  fact,  is  a  compound  of  carbonic 
acid  gas,  and  lime,  and  when  you  make  it  very  hot  the 
carbonic  acid  flies  away  and  the  lime  is  left. 

By  this  method  of  procedure  we  see  the  lime,  but  we 
do  not  see  the  carbonic  acid.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
were  to  powder  a  little  chalk  and  drop  it  into  a  good 
de<al  of  strong  vinegar,  there  would  be  a  great  bubbling 
and  fizzing,  a.nd,  finally,  a  clear  liquid,  in  which  no  sign 
of  chalk  would  appear.  Here  you  see  the  carbonic  acid 
in  the  bubbles ;  the  lime,  dissolved  in  the  vineo-ar, 
vanishes  from  sight.  There  are  a  great  many  other 
ways  of  showing  that  chalk  is  essentially  nothing  but 
carbonic  acid  and  quicklime.  Chemists  enunciate  the 
result  of  all  the  experiments  which  prove  this,  by 
stating  that  chalk  is  almost  wholly  composed  of  "  car- 
bonate of  lim.e." 

It  is  desirable  for  us  to  start  from  the  knowledge  of 
this  fact,  though  it  may  not  seem  to  help  us  very  far 
towards  what  we  seek.  For  carbonate  of  lime  is  a  widely- 
spread  substance,  and  is  met  with  under  very  various 
conditions.  All  sorts  of  limestones  are  composed  of 
more  or  less  pure  carbonate  of  lime.  The  crust  which 
is  often  deposited  by  waters  which  have  drained  through 


178  l^r  SIMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ix 

limestone  rocks,  in  tlie  form  of  wliat  are  called  stalag- 
mites and  stalactites,  is  carbonate  of  lime.  Or,  to  take 
a  more  familiar  example,  the  fur  on  tke  inside  of  a  tea- 
kettle is  carbonate  of  lime  ;  and,  for  anything  chemistry 
tells  us  to  the  contrary,  the  chalk  might  be  a  kind  of 
gigantic  fur  upon  the  bottom  of  the  earth-kettle,  which 
is  kept  pretty  hot  below. 

Let  us. try  another  method  of  making  the  chalk  tell 
us  its  own  history.  To  the  unassisted  eye  chalk  looks 
simply  like  a  very  loose  and  open  kind  of  stone.  But 
it  is  possible  to  grind  a  slice  of  chalk  down  so  thin  that 
you  can  see  through  it — until  it  is  thin  enough,  in  fact, 
to  be  examined  with  any  magnifying  powder  that  may 
be  thought  desirable.  A  thin  slice  of  the  fur  of  a 
kettle  might  be  made  in  the  same  way.  If  it  were 
examined  microscopically,  it  would  show  itself  to  be 
a  more  or  less  distinctly  lamina^ted  mineral  substance, 
and  nothing  more. 

But  the  slice  of  chalk  presents  a  totally  different 
appearance  when  placed  under  the  microscope.  The 
general  mass  of  it  is  made  up  of  very  minute  granules  ; 
but,  imbedded  in  this  matrix,  are  innumerable  bodies, 
some  smaller  and  some  larger,  but,  on  a  rough  average, 
not  more  than  a  hundredth  of  an  inch  in  diameter, 
having  a  well-defined  shape  and  structure.  A  cubic 
inch  of  some  specimens  of  chalk  may  contain  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  these  bodies,  compacted  together  with 
incalculable  millions  of  the  granules. 

The  examination  of  a  transparent  slice  gives  a  good 
notion  of  the  manner  in  which  the  components  of  the 
chalk  are  arranged,  and  of  their  relative  proportions. 
But,  by  rubbing  up  some  chalk  with  a  brush  in  water 
and  then  pouring  off  the  milky  fluid,  so  as  to  obtain 
sediments  of  different  degrees  of  fineness,  the  granules 
and  the   minute  rounded   bodies  may  be   pretty   well 


IX.]  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK,  179 

separated  from  one  anotlier,  and  submitted  to  micro- 
scopic examination,  either  as  opaque  or  as  transparent 
objects.  By  combining  the  views  obtained  in  these 
various  methods,  each  of  the  rounded  bodies  may  be 
proved  to  be  a  beautifully-constructed  calcareous  fabric, 
made  up  of  a  number  of  chambers,  communicating  freely 
with  one  another.  The  chambered  bodies  are  of  various 
forms.  One  of  the  commonest  is  something  like  a 
badly-grown  raspberry,  being  formed  of  a  number  of 
nearly  globular  chambers  of  different  sizes  congregated 
together.  It  is  called  Glohigerinay  and  some  specimens 
of  chalk  consist  of  little  else  than  Glohigerince  and 
granules. 

Let  us  fix  our  attention  upon  the  Glohigerina.  It  is 
the  spoor  of  the  game  we  are  tracking.  If  we  can  learn 
what  it  is  and  what  are  the  conditions  of  its  existence, 
we  shall  see  our  way  to  the  origin  and  past  history  of 
the  chalk. 

A  suggestion  which  may  naturally  enough  present 
itself  is,  that  these  curious  bodies  are  the  result  of  some 
process  of  aggregation  which  has  taken  place  in  the 
carbonate  of  lime  ;  that,  just  as  in  winter,  the  rime  on 
our  windows  simulates  the  most  delicate  and  elegantly 
arborescent  foliage — proving  that  the  mere  mineral  water 
may,  under  certain  conditions,  assume  the  outward  form 
of  organic  bodies — so  this  mineral  substance,  carbonate 
of  lime,  hidden  away  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  has 
taken  the  shape  of  these  chambered  bodies.  I  am  not 
raising  a  merely  fanciful  and  unreal  objection.  Very 
learned  men,  in  former  days,  have  even  entertained  the 
notion  that  all  the  formed  things  found  in  rocks  are  of 
this  nature ;  and  if  no  such  conception  is  at  present 
held  to  be  admissible,  it  is  because  Ions:  and  varied 
experience  has  now  shown  that  mineral  matter  never 
does  assume  the  form  and  structure  we  find  in  fossils. 


180  LAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [ix. 

If  any  one  were  to  try  to  persuade  yon  tliat  an  oyster- 
shell  (whicli  is  also  chiefly  composed  of  carbonate  of 
lime)  tad  crystallized  out  of  sea- water,  I  suppose  you 
would  laugh  at  the  absurdity.  Your  laughter  would 
be  justified  by  the  fact  that  all  experience  tends  to 
show  that  oyster-shells  are  formed  by  the  agency  of 
oysters,  and  in  no  other  way.  And  if  there  were  no 
better  reasons,  we  should  be  justified,  on  like  grounds, 
in  believing  that  Globigerina  is  not  the  product  of  any- 
thing but  vital  activity. 

Happily,  however,  better  evidence  in  proof  of  tho, 
organic  nature  of  the  Glohigerince  than  that  of  analogy 
is  forthcoming.  It  so  happens  that  calcareous  skeletons, 
exactly  similar  to  the  Globigerince  of  the  chalk,  are 
being  formed,  at  the  present  moment,  by  minute  living 
creatures,  which  flourish  in  multitudes,  literally  more 
numerous  than  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore,  over  a  large 
extent  of  that  part  of  the  earth's  surface  which  is 
covered  by  the  ocean. 

The  history  of  the  discovery  of  these  living  Globi- 
gerince, and  of  the  part  which  they  play  in  rock 
buildiug,  is  singular  enough.  It  is  a  discovery  which, 
like  others  of  no  less  scientific  importance,  has  arisen, 
incidentally,  out  of  work  devoted  to  very  difierent  and 
exceedingly  practical  interests. 

When  men  first  took  to  the  sea,  they  speedily  learned 
to  look  out  for  shoals  and  rocks;  and  the  more  the 
burthen  of  their  ships  increased,  the  more  imperatively 
necessary  it  became  for  sailors  to  ascertain  with  precision 
the  depth  of  the  waters  they  traversed.  Out  of  this 
necessity  grew  the  use  of  the  lead  and  sounding  line ; 
and,  ultimately,  marine-surveying,  which  is  the  recording 
of  the  form  of  coasts  and  of  the  depth  of  the  sea,  as 
ascertained  by  the  sounding-lead,  upon  charts. 

At  the  same  time,  it  became  desirable  to   ascertain 


IX. j  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHAEK.  181 

and  to  indicate  tlie  nature  of  tlie  sea-bottom,  since  this 
circumstance  greatly  affects  its  goodness  as  liolding 
ground  for  anchors.  Some  ingenious  tar,  whose  name 
deserves  a  better  fate  than  the  oblivion  into  which  it 
has  fallen,  attained  this  object  by  "  arming ''  the  bottom 
of  the  lead  with  a  lump  of  grease,  to  w^hich  more  or  less 
of  the  sand  or  mud,  or  broken  shells,  as  the  case  might 
be,  adhered,  and  was  brought  to  the  surface.  But, 
however  well  adapted  such  an  apparatus  might  be  for 
rough  nautical  purposes,  scientific  accuracy  could  not  be 
expected  from  the  armed  lead,  and  to  remedy  its  defects 
(especially  when  applied  to  sounding  in  great  depths) 
Lieut.  Brooke,  of  the  American  Navy,  some  years  ago 
invented  a  most  ingenious  machine,  by  which  a  consider- 
able portion  of  the  superficial  layer  of  the  sea-bottom 
can  be  scooped  out  and  brought  up,  from  any  depth  to 
which  the  lead  descends. 

In  1853,  Lieut.  Brooke  obtained  mud  from  the  bottom 
of  the  North  Atlantic,  between  Newfoundland  and  the 
Azores,  at  a  depth  of  more  than  10,000  feet,  or  two 
miles,  by  the  help  of  this  sounding  apparatus.  The 
specimens  were  sent  for  examination  to  Ehrenberg  of 
Berlin,  and  to  Bailey  of  West  Point,  and  those  able 
microscopists  found  that  this  deep-sea  mud  w^as 
almost  entirely  composed  of  the  skeletons  of  living 
organisms — the  greater  proportion  of  these  being  just 
like  the  Glohigerince  already  known  to  occur  in  the 
chalk. 

Thus  far,  the  w^ork  had  been  carried  on  simply  in  the 
interests  of  science,  but  Lieut.  Brooke's  method  of  sound- 
ing acquired  a  high  commercial  value,  when  the  enter- 
prise of  laying  down  the  telegraph-cable  between  this 
country  and  the  United  States  was  undertaken.  For 
it  became  a  matter  of  immense  importance  to  know, 
not  only  the  depth  of  the  sea  over  the  whole  line  along 


182  LAY  SERMONS,  JDDRESSFS,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ix. 

wMcL.  tlie  cable  was  to  be  laid,  but  tlie  exact  nature  of 
tbe  bottom,  so  as  to  guard  against  chances  of  cutting  or 
fraying  the  strands  of  that  costly  rope.  The  Admiralty 
consequently  ordered  Captain  Dayman,  an  old  friend  and 
shipmate  of  mine,  to  ascertain  the  depth  over  the  whole 
line  of  the  cable,  and  to  bring  back  specimens  of  the 
bottom.  In  former  days,  such  a  command  as  this  might 
have  sounded  very  much  like  one  of  the  impossible  things 
which  the  young  prince  in  the  Fairy  Tales  is  ordered  to 
do  before  he  can  obtain  the  hand  of  the  Princess.  How- 
ever, in  the  months  of  June  and  July  1857,  my  friend 
performed  the  task  assigned  to  him  with  great  expedition 
and  precision,  without,  so  far  as  I  know,  having  met  with 
any  reward  of  that  kind.  The  specimens  of  Atlantic 
mud  which  he  procured  were  sent  to  me  to  be  examined 
and  reported  upon.-^ 

The  result  of  all  these  operations  is,  that  we  know  the 
contours  and  the  nature  of  the  surfiice-soil  covered  by 
the  North  Atlantic,  for  a  distance  of  1,700  miles  from 
east  to  west,  as  well  as  we  know  that  of  any  part  of 
the  dry  land. 

It  is  a  prodigious  plain — one  of  the  widest  and  most 
even  plains  in  the  world.  If  the  sea  were  drained  off, 
you  might  drive  a  wagon  all  the  way  from  Valentia,  on 
tlie  west  coast  of  Ireland,  to  Trinity  Bay,  in  Newfound- 
land. And,  except  upon  one  sharp  incline  about  200 
miles  from  Valentia,  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  it  would 
even  be  necessary  to  put  the  skid  on,  so  gentle  are  the 
ascents  and  descents  upon  that  long  route.    From  Valentia 


*  See  Appondix  to  Captain  Dajninu's  "DeejD-sea  Soundings  in  the  North 
Atlantic  Ocean,  between  Ireland  and.  Newfoundland,  made  in  H.M.S. 
Cycloxjs.  Published  by  order  of  the  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty, 
1858."  They  have  siuce  formed  the  subject  of  an  elaborate  Memoir  by 
Messrs.  Parker  and  Jones,  published  in  the  Fhilosophical  Transactions  fo? 
1&G5. 


<s.]  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  183 

the  road  would  lie  down-liill  for  about  200  miles  to  the 
point  at  which  the  bottom  is  now  covered  by  1,700 
fathoms  of  sea-water.  Then  would  come  the  central 
plain,  more  than  a  thousand  miles  wide,  the  inequalities 
of  the  surface  of  which  would  be  hardly  perceptible, 
though  the  depth  of  water  upon  it  now  varies  from 
10,000  to  15,000  feet;  and  there  are  places  in  which 
Mont  Blanc  might  be  sunk  without  showing  its  peak 
above  water.  Beyond  this,  the  ascent  on  the  American 
side  commences,  and  gradually  leads,  for  about  300 
miles,  to  the  Newfoundland  shore. 

Almost  the  whole  of  the  bottom  of  this  central  plain 
(which  extends  for  many  hundred  miles  in  a  north  and 
south  direction)  is  covered  by  a  fine  mud,  which,  when 
brought  to  the  surface,  dries  into  a  greyish-white  friable 
substance.  You  can  write  with  this  on  a  blackboard,  if 
you  are  so  inclined  ;  and,  to  the  eye,  it  is  cjuite  like  very 
soft,  greyish  chalk.  Examined  chemically,  it  proves  to 
be  composed  almost  wholly  of  carbonate  of  lime ;  and  if 
you  make  a  section  of  it,  in  the  same  way  as  that  of  the 
piece  of  chalk  was  made,  and  view  it  with  the  micro- 
scope, it  presents  inuumerable  Glohigerince  embedded 
in  a  granular  matrix. 

Thus  this  deep-sea  mud  is  substantially  chalk.  I  say 
substantially,  because  there  are  a  good  many  minor  dif- 
ferences ;  but  as  these  have  no  bearing  on  the  question 
immediately  before  us, — which  is  the  nature  of  the 
Glohigerince  of  the  chalk, — it  is  unnecessary  to  speak 
of  them. 

Glohigerince  of  every  size,  from  the  smallest  to  the 
largest,  are  associated  together  in  the  Atlantic  mud,  and 
the  chambers  of  many  are  filled  by  a  soft  animal  matter. 
This  soft  substance  is,  in  fact,  the  remains  of  the  creature 
to  which  the  Glohigerina  shell,  or  rather  skeleton,  owes 
its  existence — and   which  is  an  animal  of  the  simplest 


184  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ix. 

imaginable  description.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  mere  particle 
of  liying  jelly,  without  defined  parts  of  any  kind — 
without  a  mouth,  nerves,  muscles,  or  distinct  organs, 
and  only  manifesting  its  vitality  to  ordinary  observation 
by  thrusting  out  and  retracting  from  all  parts  of  its 
surface,  long  filamentous  processes,  which  serve  for  arms 
and  legs.  Yet  this  amorphous  particle,  devoid  of  every- 
thing which,  in  the  higher  animals,  we  call  organs,  is 
capable  of  feeding,  growing,  and  multiplying ;  of  sepa- 
rating from  tlie  ocean  the  small  proportion  of  carbonate 
of  lime  which  is  dissolved  in  sea  water ;  and  of 
building  up  that  substance  into  a  skeleton  for  itself, 
according  to  a  pattern  which  can  be  imitated  by  no 
other  known  agency. 

The  notion  that  animals  can  live  and  flourish  in  the 
sea,  at  the  vast  depths  from  which  apparently  living 
Globigerince  have  been  brought  up,  does  not  agree  very 
well  with  our  usual  conceptions  respecting  the  conditions 
of  animal  life ;  and  it  is  not  so  absolutely  impossible  as 
it  might  at  first  sight  appear  to  be,  that  the  Glohigerince 
of  the  Atlantic  sea-bottom  do  not  live  and  die  where 
they  are  found. 

As  I  have  mentioned,  the  soundings  from  the  great 
Atlantic  plain  are  almost  entirely  made  up  of  Globi- 
gerincE,  with  the  granules  which  have  been  mentioned, 
and  some  few  other  calcareous  shells ;  but  a  small  per- 
centage of  the  chalky  mud — perhaps  at  most  some  five 
per  cent,  of  it — is  of  a  difierent  nature,  and  consists  of 
shells  and  skeletons  composed  of  silex,  or  pure  flint.  These 
silicious  bodies  belong  partly  to  the  lowly  vegetable 
organisms  which  are  called  Diatomacece,  and  partly  to 
the  minute,  and  extremely  simple,  animals,  termed 
Radiolaria.  It  is  quite  certain  that  these  creatures 
do  not  live  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  but  at  its 
surface — where    they   may   be   obtained    in   prodigious 


IS.]  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  185 

numbers  by  the  use  of  a  properly  constructed  net. 
Hence  it  follows  tliat  these  silicious  organisms,  though 
they  are  not  heavier  than  the  lightest  dust,  must  have 
fallen,  in  some  cases,  through  fifteen  thousand  feet  of 
water,  before  they  reached  their  final  resting-place  on 
the  ocean  floor.  And,  considering  how  large  a  surface 
these  bodies  expose  in  proportion  to  their  weight,  it 
is  probable  that  they  occupy  a  great  length  of  time 
in  making  their  burial  journey  from  the  surface  of  the 
Atlantic   to   the   bottom. 

But  if  the  Radiolaria  and  Diatoms  are  thus  rained 
upon  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  from  the  superficial  layer 
of  its  waters  in  which  they  pass  their  lives,  it  is  ob- 
viously possible  that  the  GlohigerinoB  may  be  similarly 
derived;  and  if  they  were  so,  it  would  be  much  more 
easy  to  understand  how  they  obtain  their  supply  of  food 
than  it  is  at  present.  Nevertheless,  the  positive  and 
negative  evidence  all  points  the  other  way.  The 
skeletons  of  the  full-grown,  deep-sea  Glohigerince  are 
so  remarkably  solid  and  heavy  in  proportion  to  their 
surface  as  to  seem  little  fitted  for  floating ;  and,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  they  are  not  to  be  found  along  with  the 
Diatoms  and  Radiolaria,  in  the  uppermost  stratum  of 
the  open  ocean. 

It  has  been  observed,  again,  that  the  abundance  of 
Glohigerince,  in  proportion  to  other  organisms,  of  like 
kind,  increases  with  the  depth  of  the  sea  ;  and  that 
deep-water  Glohigerince  are  larger  than  those  which  live 
in  shallower  parts  of  the  sea ;  and  such  facts  negative 
the  supposition  that  these  organisms  have  been  swept  by 
currents  from  the  shallows  into  the  dee23s  of  the  Atlantic. 

It  therefore  seems  to  be  hardly  doubtful  that  these 
wonderful  creatures  live  and  die  at  the  depths  in  which 
they  are  found.  ^ 

*  During  the  cruise  of  H.M.S.  Bull-dog,  commanded  by  Sir  Leopold 


186  Ur  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [in. 

However,  the  important  points  for  ns  are,  tliat  tlie. 
living  Glohigerince  are  exclusively  marine  animals,  tlie 
skeletons  of  whieli  abound  at  tlie  bottom  of  deep  seas ; 
and  that  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  reason  for  believing 
that  the  habits  of  the  Glohigermco  of  the  chalk  differed 
from  those  of  the  existing  species.  But  if  this  be  true, 
there  is  no  escaping  the  conclusion  that  the  chalk  itself 
is  the  dried  mud  of  an  ancient  deep  sea. 

In  working  over  the  soundings  collected  by  Captain 
Dayman,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  many  of  what 
I  have  called  the  "  granules"  of  that  mud,  were  not,  as 
one  might  have  been  tempted  to  think  at  first,  the  mere 
powder  and  w^aste  of  Glohigerince,  but  that  they  had  a 
definite  form  and  size.  I  termed  these  bodies  "  cocco- 
lit/isj'  and  doubted  their  organic  nature.  Dr.  AVallich 
verified  my  observation,  and  added  the  interesting 
discovery  that,  not  unfrequently,  bodies  similar  to  these 
"coccoliths"  were  aggregated  together  into  spheroids, 
which  he  termed  "  coccospheres!'  So  far  as  we  knew, 
these  bodies,  the  nature  of  which  is  extremely  puzzling 
and  problematical,  were  peculiar  to  the  Atlantic 
soundings. 

But,  a  few  years  ago,  Mr.  Sorby,  in  making  a  careful 
examination  of  the  chalk  by  means  of  thin  sections  and 
otherwise,  observed,  as  Ehrenberg  had  done  before  him, 
that  much  of  its  granular  basis  possesses  a  definite  form. 
Comparing   these   formed   particles   with   those   in  the 

M^Clintock,  in  1860,  living  star-fisL.  were  brouglifc  up,  clinging  to  the  lowest 
part  of  tlie  sounding-line,  from  a  depth  of  1,260  fathoms,  midway  between 
Cape  Farewell,  in  Greenland,  and  the  Eockall  banks.  Dr.  Wallich  ascertained 
that  the  sea-bottom  at  this  point  consisted  of  the  ordinary  GlGbigerina  ooze, 
and  that  the  stomachs  of  the  star-fishes  were  fuU  of  Glohigerince.  This 
discovery  removes  all  objections  to  the  existence  of  living  Glohigerince  at 
great  depths,  which  are  based  upon  the  supposed  difficulty  of  maintaining 
animal  life  under  such  conditions  ;  and  it  throws  the  burden  of  proof  upon 
those  who  object  to  the  supposition  that  the  Glohigerinc?:  live  and  die  whew 
they  are  found. 


ix]  ON  A  FILCE  OF  CHALK.  187 

Atlantic  soundings,  lie  found  tlie  two  to  be  identical  ; 
and  thus  proved  that  the  chalk,  like  the  soundino-s, 
contains  these  mysterious  coccoliths  and  coccos|)heres. 
Here  was  a  further  and  a  most  interesting  confirmation, 
from  internal  evidence,  of  the  essential  identity  of  the 
chalk  with  modern  deep-sea  mud.  Glohigerince,  cocco- 
liths, and  coccospheres  are  found  as  the  chief  constituents 
of  both,  and  testify  to  the  general  similarity  of  the  con- 
ditions under  which  both  have  been  formed.^ 

The  evidence  furnished  bv  the  hewing;,  facino-  and 
superposition  of  the  stones  of  the  Pyramids,  that  these 
structures  were  built  by  men,  has  no  greater  weight 
than  the  evidence  that  the  chalk  was  built  by  Glohi- 
gerince ]  a,nd  the  belief  that  those  ancient  pyramid- 
builders  were  terrestrial  and  air-breathing  creatures  like 
ourselves,  is  it  not  better  based  than  the  conviction  that 
the  chalk-makers  lived  in  the  sea. 

But  as  our  belief  in  the  building  of  the  Pyramids  by 
men  is  not  only  grounded  on  the  internal  evidence 
afforded  by  these  structures,  but  gathers  strength  from 
multitudinous  collateral  proofs,  and  is  clinched  by  the 
total  absence  of  any  reason  for  a  contrary  belief ;  so  the 
evidence  drawn  from  the  Globerigince  that  the  chalk  is 
an  ancient  sea-bottom,  is  fortified  by  innumerable  inde- 
pendent lines  of  evidence :  and  our  belief  in  the  truth 
of  the  conclusion  to  which  all  positive  testimony  tends, 
receives  the  like  negative  justification  from  the  fact  that 
no  other  hypothesis  has  a  shadow  of  foundation. 

It  may  be  worth  while  briefly  to  consider  a  few  of 
these  collateral  proofs  that  the  chalk  was  deposited  at 
the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

*  I  have  recently  traced  out  the  development  of  the  "  coccoliths  "  from  a 
diameter  of  f  oVo*^  of  ^^  i^ch  up  to  their  largest  size  (which  is  abouti^^joth), 
and  no  longer  cloubt  that  they  are  produced  by  independent  organisms,  which, 
like  the  Glohigerince,  live  and  die  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 


188  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWB.  [ix. 

Tlie  great  mass  of  tlie  clialk  is  composed,  as  we  have 
seen,  of  tlie  skeletons  of  Glohigerince,  and  other  simple 
organisms,  imbedded  in  granular  matter.  Here  and 
there,  however,  this  hardened  mnd  of  the  ancient  sea 
reveals  the  remains  of  higher  animals  which  have  lived 
and  died,  and  left  their  hard  parts  in  the  mud,  just  as 
the  oysters  die  and  leave  their  shells  behind  them,  in  the 
mud  of  the  present  seas. 

There  are,  at  the  present  day,  certain  groups  of  animals 
which  are  never  found  in  fresh  waters,  being  unable  to 
live  anywhere  but  in  the  sea.  Such  are  the  corals  ;  those 
corallines  which  are  called  Polyzoa ;  those  creatures 
which  fabricate  the  lamp-shells,  and  are  called  Brachio- 
poda ;  the  pearly  Nautilus^  and  all  animals  allied  to 
it ;  and  all  the  forms  of  sea-urchins  and  star-fishes. 

Not  only  are  all  these  creatures  confined  to  salt  water 
at  the  present  day ;  but,  so  far  as  our  records  of  the  past 
go,  the  conditions  of  their  existence  have  been  the  same  : 
hence,  their  occurrence  in  any  deposit  is  as  strong 
evidence  as  can  be  obtained,  that  that  deposit  was 
formed  in  the  sea.  Now  the  remains  of  animals  of  all 
the  kinds  which  have  been  enumerated,  occur  in  the 
chalk,  in  greater  or  less  abundance  ;  while  not  one  of 
those  forms  of  shell-fish  which  are  characteristic  of  fresh 
water  has  yet  been  observed  in  it. 

When  we  consider  that  the  remains  of  more  than  three 
thousand  distinct  species  of  aquatic  animals  have  been 
discovered  among  the  fossils  of  the  chalk,  that  the  great 
majority  of  them  are  of  such  forms  as  are  now  met  with 
only  in  the  sea,  and  that  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  any  one  of  them  inhabited  fresh  water — the  collateral 
evidence  that  the  chalk  represents  an  ancient  sea-bottom 
acquires  as  great  force  as  the  proof  derived  from  the 
nature  of  the  chalk  itself.  I  think  3^ou  will  now  allow 
that  I  did  not  overstate  my  case  when  I  asserted  that 


xj  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  189 

we  have  as  strong  grounds  for  believing  that  all  the  vast 
area  of  dry  land,  at  present  occupied  by  the  chalk,  was 
once  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  as  we  have  for  any  matter 
of  history  whatever ;  while  there  is  no  justification  for 
any  other  belief 

No  less  certain  it  is  that  the  time  during  which 
the  countries  we  now  call  south-east  England,  France, 
Germany,  Poland,  Kussia,  Egypt,  Arabia,  Syria,  were 
more  or  less  completely  covered  by  a  deep  sea,  was  of 
considerable  duration. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  chalk  is,  in  places, 
more  than  a  thousand  feet  thick.  I  think  you  will 
agree  with  me,  that  it  must  have  taken  some  time  for 
the  skeletons  of  animalcules  of  a  hundredth  of  an  inch  in 
diameter  to  heap  up  such  a  mass  as  that.  I  have  said 
that  throughout  the  thickness  of  the  chalk  the  remains 
of  other  animals  are  scattered.  These  remains  are  often 
in  the  most  exquisite  state  of  preservation.  The  valves 
of  the  shell-fishes  are  commonly  adherent ;  the  long 
spines  of  some  of  the  sea-urchins,  which  would  be  de- 
tached by  the  smallest  jar,  often  remain  in  their  places. 
In  a  word,  it  is  certain  that  these  animals  have  lived 
and  died  when  the  place  which  they  now  occupy  was 
the  surface  of  as  much  of  the  chalk  as  had  then  been 
deposited  ;  and  that  each  has  been  covered  up  by  the 
layer  of  Glohigerina  mud,  upon  which  the  creatures 
imbedded  a  little  higher  up  have,  in  like  manner,  lived 
and  died.  But  some  of  these  remains  prove  the  existence 
of  reptiles  of  vast  size  in  the  chalk  sea.  These  lived 
their  time,  and  had  their  ancestors  and  descendants, 
which  assuredly  implies  time,  reptiles  being  of  slow 
growth. 

There  is  more  curious  evidence,  again,  that  the  process 
of  covering  up,  or,  in  other  words,  the  deposit  of  Glohi- 
gerina skeletons,  did  not  go  on  very  fast.     It  is  demon- 


190  LAF  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [ix 

strable  that  an  animal  of  tlie  cretaceous  sea  miglit  die, 
that  its  skeleton  might  lie  uncovered  upon  the  sea-bottom 
long  enough  to  lose  all  its  outward  coverings  and  appen- 
dages by  putrefaction  ;  and  that,  after  this  had  happened, 
another  animal  might  attach  itself  to  the  dead  and  naked 
skeleton,  might  grow  to  maturity,  and  might  itself  die 
before  the  cpJcareous  mud  had  buried  the  whole. 

Cases  of  this  kind  are  admirably  described  by  Sir 
Charles  Lyell.  He  speaks  of  the  frequency  with  which 
geologists  find  in  the  chalk  a  fossilized  sea-urchin,  to 
which  is  attached  the  lower  valve  of  a  Crania.  This 
is  a  kind  of  shell -fish,  with  a  shell  composed  of  two 
pieces,  of  wdiich,  as  in  the  oyster,  one  is  fixed  and  the 
other  free. 

"  The  upper  valve  is  almost  invariably  wanting, 
though  occasion  ally  found  in  a  perfect  state  of  pre- 
servation in  the  white  chalk  at  some  distance.  In  this 
case,  we  see  clearly  that  the  sea-urchin  first  lived  from 
youth  to  age,  then  died  and  lost  its  spines,  which  Avero 
carried  away.  Then  the  young  Crania  adhered  to  the 
bared  shell,  grew  and  perished  in  its  turn  ;  after  w^hich, 
the  upper  valve  was  separated  from  the  lower,  before 
the  Echinus  became  enveloped  in  chalky  mud."  ^ 

A  specimen  in  the  Museum  of  Practical  Geology,  in 
Loudon,  still  further  prolongs  the  period  which  must  have 
elapsed  between  the  death  of  the  sea-urchin,  and  its  burial 
by  the  GlohigerincB.  For  the  outward  face  of  the  valve  of 
a  Crania,  which  is  attached  to  a  sea-urchin  (Micraster), 
is  itself  overrun  by  an  incrusting  coralline,  v/hich  spreads 
thence  over  more  or  less  of  the  surface  of  the  sea-urchin. 
It  folio w^s  that,  after  the  upper  valve  of  the  Crania  fell 
off,  the  surface  of  the  attached  valve  must  have  remained 
exposed  long  enough  to  allow  of  the  growth  of  the  whole 
coralline,  since  corallines  do  not  live  imbedded  in  mud. 

' ''  Elements  of  Geology,"  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  Bart.  F.E,S.,  p.  23. 


cl]  c^' a  piece  of  chalk  191 

Tlie  progress  of  knowledge  may,  one  day,  enable  ns 
to  deduce  from  such  facts  as  tliese  the  maximum  rate 
at  which  the  chalk  can  have  accumulated,  and  thus  to 
arrive  at  the  minimum  duration  of  the  chalk  period. 
Suppose  that  the  valve  of  the  Crania  upon  which  a 
coralline  has  fixed  itself  in  the  way  just  described,  is  so 
attached  to  the  sea-urchin  that  no  part  of  it  is  more  than 
an  inch  above  the  face  upon  which  the  sea-urchin  rests. 
Then,  as  the  coralline  could  not  have  fixed  itselfj  if  the 
Crania  had  been  covered  up  with  chalk  mud,  and 
could  not  have  lived  had  itself  been  so  covered,  it  foUow^s, 
that  an  inch  of  chalk  mud  could  not  have  accumulated 
within  the  time  between  the  death  and  decay  of  the  soft- 
parts  of  the  sea-urchin  and  the  growth  of  the  coralline  to 
the  full  size  which  it  has  attained.  If  the  decay  of  the 
soft  parts  of  the  sea-urchin  ;  the  attachment,  grow^th  to 
maturity,  and  decay  of  the  Crania ;  and  the  subsequent 
attachment  and  growth  of  the  coralline,  took  a  year 
(which  is  a  low  estimate  enough),  the  accumulation  of 
the  inch  of  chalk  must  have  taken  more  than  a  year : 
and  the  deposit  of  a  thousand  feet  of  chalk  must, 
consequently,  have  taken  more  than  twelve  thousand 
years. 

The  foundation  of  all  this  calculation  is,  of  course,  a 
knovrledo^e  of  the  lenojth  of  time  the  Crania  and  the 
coralline  needed  to  attain  their  full  size;  and,  on  this 
head,  precise  knowledge  is  at  present  wanting.  But 
there  are  circumstances  which  tend  to  show,  that  nothing 
like  an  inch  of  chalk  has  accumulated  during  the  life  of 
a  Crania ;  and,  on  any  probable  estimate  of  the  length 
of  that  life,  the  chalk  period  must  have  had  a  much 
longer  duration  than  that  thus  roughly  assigned  to  it. 

Thus,  not  only  is  it  certain  that  the  chalk  is  the  mud  of 
an  ancient  sea-bottom  ;  but  it  is  no  less  certain,  that  the 


192  L^r  SERMONSy  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [i\, 

chalk  sea  existed  during  an  extremely  long  period,  thougli 
we  may  not  be  prepared  to  give  a  precise  estimate  of  the 
length  of  that  period  in  years.  The  relative  dura,tion  is 
clear,  though  the  absolute  duration  may  not  be  definable. 
The  attempt  to  affix  any  precise  date  to  the  period  at 
which  the  chalk  sea  began,  or  ended,  its  existence,  is 
baffled  by  difficulties  of  the  same  kind.  But  the  rela- 
tive age  of  the  cretaceous  epoch  may  be  determined 
with  as  great  ease  and  certainty  as  the  long  duration 
of  thab.  epoch. 

You  will  have  heard  of  the  interesting  discoveries 
recently  made,  in  various  parts  of  Western  Europe,  of 
flint  implements,  obviously  worked  into  shape  by  human 
hands,  under  circumstances  which  show  conclusively  that 
man  is  a  very  ancient  denizen  of  these  regions. 

It  has  been  proved  that  the  old  populations  of  Europe, 
whose  existence  has  been  revealed  to  us  in  this  way,  con- 
sisted of  savages,  such  as  the  Esquimaux  are  now  ;  that, 
in  the  country  which  is  now  France,  they  hunted  the 
reindeer,  and  were  familiar  with  the  ways  of  the  mam- 
moth and  the  bison.  The  physical  geography  of  France 
was  in  those  days  different  from  what  it  is  now — the 
river  Somme,  for  instance,  having  cut  its  bed  a  hundred 
feet  deeper  between  that  time  and  this  ;  and,  it  is  pro- 
bable, that  the  climate  was  more  like  that  of  Canada 
or  Siberia,  than  that  of  "Western  Europe. 

The  existence  of  these  people  is  forgotten  even  in  the 
traditions  of  the  oldest  historical  nations.  The  name 
and  fame  of  them  had  utterly  vanished  until  a  few 
years  back ;  and  the  amount  of  physical  change  which 
has  been  effected  since  their  day,  renders  it  more  than 
probable  that,  venerable  as  are  some  of  the  historical 
nations,  the  workers  of  the  chipped  flints  of  Hoxne  or 
of  Amiens  are  to  them,  as  they  are  to  us,  in  point  of 
antiquity. 


/x[.  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK,  193 

But,  if  we  assign  to  tliese  hoar  relics  of  long-vanished 
generations  of  men  the  greatest  age  that  can  possibly  be 
claimed  for  them,  they  are  not  older  than  the  drift,  or 
boulder  clay,  which,  in  comparison  with  the  chalk,  is 
bufc  a  very  juvenile  deposit.  You  need  go  no  further 
than  your  own  sea-board  for  evidence  of  this  fact.  At 
one  of  the  most  charming  spots  on  the  coast  of  Norfolk, 
Cromer,  you  wall  see  the  boulder  clay  forming  a  vast 
mass,  which  lies  upon  the  chalk,  and  must  consequently 
have  come  into  existence  after  it.  Huge  boulders  of 
chalk  are,  in  fact,  included  in  the  clay,  and  have  evi- 
dently been  brought  to  the  position  they  now  occupy, 
by  the  same  agency  as  that  wdiich  has  planted  blocks  of 
syenite  from  Norway  side  by  side  with  them. 

The  chalk,  then,  is  certainly  older  than  the  boulder 
clay.  If  you  ask  how  much,  I  will  again  take  you  no 
further  than  the  same  spot  upon  your  owm  coasts  for 
evidence.  I  have  spoken  of  the  boulder  clay  and  drift 
as  resting  upon  the  chalk.  That  is  not  strictly  true. 
Interposed  between  the  chalk  and  the  drift  is  a  compa- 
ratively insignificant  layer,  containing  vegetable  matter. 
But  that  layer  tells  a  wonderful  history.  It  is  full  of 
stumps  of  trees  standing  as  they  grew.  Fir-trees  are 
there  with  their  cones,  and  hazel-bushes  with  their  nuts ; 
there  stand  the  stools  of  oak  and  yew"  trees,  beeches  and 
alders.  Hence  this  stratum  is  appropriately  called  the 
"forest-bed." 

It  is  obvious  that  the  chalk  must  have  been  upheaved 
and  converted  into  dry  land,  before  the  timber  trees 
could  grow  upon  it.  As  the  bolls  of  some  of  these  trees 
are  from  two  to  three  feet  in  diameter,  it  is  no  less  clear 
that  the  dry  land  thus  formed  remained  in  the  same 
condition  for  long  ages.  And  not  only  do  the  remains 
of  stately  oaks  and  w^ell-grown  firs  testify  to  the  duration 
of  this  condition  of  things,  but  additional  evidence  to 


194  LAY  SERMONS,  ALBRESSJES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [is 

the  same  effect  is  afforded  by  tlie  abundant  remains  of 
elephants,  rliinoceroses,  hippopotamuses,  and  other  great 
wild  beasts,  which  it  has  yielded  to  the  zealous  search  of 
such  men  as  the  Eev.  Mr.  Gunn. 

When  you  look  at  such  a  collection  as  he  has  formed, 
and  bethink  you  that  these  elephantine  bones  did  veritably 
carry  their  owners  about,  and  these  great  grinders  crunch, 
in  the  dark  woods  of  wdiich  the  forest-bed  is  now  the 
only  trace,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  they  are  as 
good  evidence  of  the  lapse  of  time  as  the  annual  rings 
of  the  tree-stumps. 

Thus  there  is  a  writing  upon  the  w^all  of  cliffs  at 
Cromer,  and  w^hoso  runs  may  read  it.  It  tells  us,  with 
an  authority  which  cannot  be  impeached,  that  the 
ancient  sea-bed  of  the  chalk  sea  was  raised  up,  and 
remained  dry  land,  until  it  was  covered  with  forest, 
stocked  \vith  the  great  game  whose  spoils  have  rejoiced 
your  geologists.  How  long  it  remained  in  that  condition 
cannot  be  said  ;  but  "  the  wdiirligig  of  time  brought  its 
revenges  ^'  in  those  days  as  in  these.  That  dry  land, 
with  the  bones  and  teeth  of  generations  of  long-lived 
elephants,  hidden  away  among  the  gnarled  roots  and  dry 
leaves  of  its  ancient  trees,  sank  gradually  to  the  bottom 
of  the  icy  sea,  which  covered  it  with  huge  masses  of 
drift  and  boulder  clay.  Sea-beasts,  such  as  the  walrus, 
now  restricted  to  the  extreme  north,  paddled  about  where 
birds  had  twittered  among  the  topmost  twigs  of  the  fir- 
trees.  How  long  this  state  of  things  endured  we  know 
not,  but  at  length  it  came  to  an  end.  The  upheaved 
glacial  mud  hardened  into  the  soil  of  modern  Norfolk. 
Forests  grew  once  more,  the  wolf  and  the  beaver  re- 
placed the  reindeer  and  the  elephant ;  and  at  length 
wliat  we  call  the  history  of  England  dawned. 

Thus  you  have,  within  the  limits  of  your  own  county, 
proof  that  the    chalk   can  justly   claim  a   very   much 


IX.]  ON-  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  195 

greater  antiquity  tlian  even  tlie  oldest  pliysical  traces  of 
mankind.  But  we  may  go  furtlier  and  demonstrate,  by 
evidence  of  the  same  authority  as  that  "which  testifies  to 
the  existence  of  the  father  of  men,  that  the  chalk  is 
vastly  older  than  Adam  himself. 

The  Book  of  Genesis  informs  us  that  Adam,  immediatelv 
upon  liis  creation,  and  before  the  appearance  of  Eve,  was 
placed  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  problem  of  the 
geographical  position  of  Eden  has  greatly  vexed  the 
spirits  of  the  learned  in  such  matters,  but  there  is  one 
point  respecting  which,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  commentator 
has  ever  raised  a  doubt.  This  is,  that  of  the  four  rivers 
wdiich  are  said  to  run  out  of  it,  Euphrates  and  Hiddekel 
are  identical  with  the  rivers  now  knowai  by  the  names  of 
Euphrates  and  Tigris. 

But  the  w^hole  country  in  wdiich  these  mighty  rivers 
take  their  origin,  and  through  which  they  run,  is 
composed  of  rocks  which  are  either  of  the  same  age  as 
the  chalk,  or  of  later  date.  So  that  the  chalk  must  not 
only  have  been  formed,  but,  after  its  formation,  the  time 
required  for  the  deposit  of  these  later  rocks,  and  for  their 
upheaval  into  dry  land,  must  have  ela23sed,  before  the 
smallest  brook  which  feeds  the  swift  stream  of  '^  the 
great  river,  the  river  of  Babylon,^''  began  to  flow. 

Thus,  evidence  which  cannot  be  rebutted,  and  which 
need  not  be  strengthened,  though  if  time  permitted 
I  might  indefinitely  increase  its  quantity,  compels  you 
to  believe  that  the  earth,  from  the  time  of  the  chalk 
to  the  present  day,  has  been  the  theatre  of  a  series  of 
changes  as  vast  in  their  amount,  as  they  were  slow  in 
their  progress.  The  area  on  which  w^e  stand  has  been 
first  sea  and  then  land,  for  at  least  four  alternations  ; 
and  has  remained  in  each  of  these  conditions  for  a 
period  of  great  length. 


196  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ix. 

Nor  have  these  wonderful  metamorpTioses  of  sea  into 
land,  and  of  land  into  sea,  been  confined  to  one  corner 
of  England.  Daring  the  chalk  period,  or  *'  cretaceous 
epoch,"  not  one  of  the  present  great  physical  features  of 
the  globe  was  in  existence.  Our  great  mountain  ranges, 
Pyrenees,  Alps,  Himalayas,  Andes,  have  all  been  up- 
heaved since  the  chalk  was  deposited,  and  the  cretaceous 
sea  flowed  over  the  sites  of  Sinai  and  Ararat. 

All  this  is  certain,  because  rocks  of  cretaceous,  or  still 
later,  date  have  shared  in  the  elevatory  movements 
which  gave  rise  to  these  mountain  chains  ;  and  may 
be  found  perched  up,  in  some  cases,  many  thousand 
feet  high  upon  their  flanks.  And  evidence  of  equal 
cogency  demonstrates  that,  though,  in  Norfolk,  the 
forest-bed  rests  directly  upon  the  chalk,  yet  it  does  so, 
not  because  the  period  at  which  the  forest  grew  imme- 
diately followed  that  at  which  the  chalk  was  formed, 
but  because  an  immense  lapse  of  time,  represented 
elsewhere  by  thousands  of  feet  of  rock,  is  not  indicated 
at  Cromer. 

I  must  ask  you  to  believe  that  there  is  no  less  con- 
clusive proof  that  a  still  more  prolonged  succession  of 
similar  changes  occurred,  before  the  chalk  was  deposited. 
Nor  have  we  any  reason  to  think  that  the  first  term  in 
the  series  of  these  changes  is  known.  The  oldest  sea- 
beds  preserved  to  us  are  sands,  and  mud,  and  pebbles, 
the  wear  and  tear  of  rocks  which  were  formed  in  still 
older  oceans. 

But,  great  as  is  the  magnitude  of  these  physical 
changes  of  the  world,  they  have  been  accompanied  by 
a  no  less  striking  series  of  modifications  in  its  living 
inhaljitants. 

All  the  great  classes  of  animals,  beasts  of  the  field, 
fowls  of  the  air,  creeping  things,  and  things  which  dwell 
in  the  waters,  fl.ourished  upon  the  globe  long  ages  before 


IX.]  ON  A  FIECE  OF  CHALK,  197 

the  chalk  was  deposited.  Very  few,  however,  if  any,  of 
these  ancient  forms  of  animal  life  were  identical  with 
those  which  now  live.  Certainly  not  one  of  the  higher 
animals  was  of  the  same  species  as  any  of  those  now  in 
existence.  The  beasts  of  the  field,  in  the  days  before 
the  chalk,  were  not  onr  beasts  of  the  field,  nor  the  fowls 
of  the  air  such  as  those  which  the  eye  of  men  has  seen 
flying,  unless  his  antiquity  dates  infinitely  further  back 
than  we  at  present  surmise.  If  we  could  be  carried 
back  into  those  times,  we  should  be  as  one  suddenly 
set  down  in  Australia  before  it  was  colonized.  We  should 
see  mammals,  birds,  reptiles,  fishes,  insects,  snails,  and 
the  like,  clearly  recognisable  as  such,  and  yet  not  one 
of  them  would  be  just  the  same  as  those  with  which  we 
are  familiar,  and  many  would  be  extremely  difierent. 

From  that  time  to  the  present,  the  population  of  the 
world  has  undergone  slow  and  gradual,  but  incessant, 
changes.  There  has  been  no  grand  catastrophe — no 
destroyer  has  swept  away  the  forms  of  life  of  one 
period,  and  replaced  them  by  a  totally  new  creation  ; 
but  one  species  has  vanished  and  another  has  taken 
its  place ;  creatures  of  one  type  of  structure  have 
diminished,  those  of  another  have  increased,  as  time 
has  passed  on.  And  thus,  while  the  differences  between 
the  living  creatures  of  the  time  before  the  chalk  and 
those  of  the  present  day  appear  startling,  if  placed 
side  by  side,  we  are  led  from  one  to  the  other  by  the 
most  gradual  progress,  if  we  follow  the  course  of  Nature 
through  the  whole  series  of  those  relics  of  her  operations 
which  she  has  left  behind. 

And  it  is  by  the  population  of  the  chalk  sea  that  the 
ancient  and  the  modern  inhabitants  of  the  world  are 
most  completely  connected.  The  groups  which  are 
dying  out  flourish,  side  by  side,  with  the  groups  which 
are  now  the  dominant  forms  of  life. 


198  LJr  SERMONS,  JDDRESSFS,  AND  REVIEIFS,  [ix. 

Thus  tlie  chalk  contains  remains  of  those  strange 
flying  and  swimming  re]3tiles,  the  pterodactyl,  the  ich- 
thyosaurus, and  the  plesiosaurus,  which  are  found  in  no 
later  deposits,  but  abounded  in  preceding  ages.  The 
chambered  shells  called  ammonites  and  belemnites, 
which  are  so  characteristic  of  the  period  preceding  the 
cretaceous,  in  like  manner  die  with  it. 

But,  amongst  these  fading  remainders  of  a  previous 
state  of  things,  are  some  very  modern  forms  of  life, 
looking  like  Yankee  pedlars  among  a  tribe  of  Red 
Indians.  Crocodiles  of  modern  type  appear ;  bony 
fishes,  many  of  them  very  similar  to  existing  species, 
almost  supplant  the  forms  of  fish  which  predominate 
in  more  ancient  seas ;  and  many  kinds  of  living  shell- 
fish first  become  known  to  us  in  the  chalk.  The  vege- 
tation acquires  a  modern  aspect.  A  few  living  animals 
are  not  even  distinguishable  as  species,  from  those  which 
existed  at  that  remote  epoch.  The  Glohigerina  of  the 
present  day,  for  example,  is  not  different  sjDCcifically 
from  that  of  the  chalk;  and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  many  other  Foraminifera.  I  think  it  probable  that 
critical  and  unprejudiced  examination  will  show  that 
more  than  one  species  of  much  higher  animals  have  had 
a  similar  longevity  ;  but  the  only  example  which  I  can 
at  present  give  confidently  is  the  snake's-head  lamp- 
shell  (Terehratulina  caput  serpentis),  which  lives  in 
our  English  seas  and  abounded  (as  Terehratulina  striata 
of  authors)  in  the  chalk. 

The  longest  line  of  human  ancestry  must  hide  its 
diminished  head  before  the  pedigree  of  this  insignificant 
shell-fish.  We  Englishmen  are  proud  to  have  an  ancestor 
who  was  present  at  the  Battle  of  Hastings.  The  an- 
cestors of  Terehratulina  caput  serpentis  may  have  been 
present  at  a  battle  of  Ichthyosauria  in  that  part  of  the 
sea  which,  when  the  chalk  was  forming,  flowed  over  the 


IX.]  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  199 

site  of  Hastiiio^s.  While  all  around  has  cliano-cd,  this 
Terebratulina  has  peacefully  propagated  its  species  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  stands  to  this  day,  as  a 
living  testimony  to  the  continuity  of  the  present  with 
the  past  history  of  the  globe. 

Up  to  this  moment  I  have  stated,  so  far  as  I  know, 
nothing  but  well-authenticated  facts,  and  the  immediate 
conclusions  which  they  force  upon  the  mind. 

But  the  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  does  not 
willingly  rest  in  facts  and  immediate  causes,  but  seeks 
always  after  a  knowledge  of  the  remoter  links  in  the 
chain  of  causation. 

Taking  the  many  changes  of  any  given  spot  of  the 
earth's  surface,  from  sea  to  land  and  from  land  to  sea, 
as  an  established  fact,  we  cannot  refrain  from  asking 
ourselves  how  these  changes  have  occurred.  And  when 
we  have  explained  them— as  they  must  be  explained 
—  by  the  alternate  slow  movements  of  elevation 
and  depression  which  have  affected  the  crust  of  the 
earth,  we  go  still  further  back,  and  ask.  Why  these 
movements  ? 

I  am  not  certain  that  any  one  can  give  you  a  satis- 
factory answer  to  that  question.  Assuredly  I  cannot. 
All  that  can  be  said,  for  certain,  is,  that  such  movements 
are  part  of  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  inasmuch  as 
they  are  going  on  at  the  present  time.  Direct  proof 
may  be  given,  that  some  parts  of  the  land  of  the 
northern  hemisphere  are  at  this  moment  insensibly  rising 
and  others  insensibly  sinking ;  and  there  is  indirect,  but 
perfectly  satisfactory,  proof,  that  an  enormous  area  now 
covered  by  the  Pacific  has  been  deepened  thousands  of 
feet,  since  the  present  inhabitants  of  that  sea  came  into 
existence. 

Thus  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  a  reason  for  believing 


200  LAY  SERMONS,  ABDimHSBS,  AND  REVIEWS,  [ix 

tliat  the  physical   changes  of  the  globe,  in  past  times, 
have  been  effected  by  other  than  natural  causes. 

Is  there  any  more  reason  for  believing  that  the  concomi- 
tant modifications  in  the  forms  of  the  living  inhabitants 
of  the  globe  have  been  brought  about  in  other  ways  ? 

Before  attempting  to  answer  this  question,  let  us  try 
to  form  a  distinct  mental  picture  of  what  has  happened, 
in  some  special  case. 

The  crocodiles  are  animals  which,  as  a  group,  have  a 
very  vast  antiquity.  They  abounded  ages  before  the 
chalk  was  deposited ;  they  throng  the  rivers  in  warm 
climates,  at  the  present  day.  There  is  a  difference  in 
the  form  of  the  joints  of  the  back-bone,  and  in  some 
minor  particulars,  between  the  crocodiles  of  the  present 
epoch  and  those  which  lived  before  the  chalk ;  but,  in 
the  cretaceous  epoch,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  the 
crocodiles  had  assumed  the  modern  type  of  structure.  | 
Notwithstanding  this,  the  crocodiles  of  the  chalk  are  * 
not  identically  the  same  as  those  which  lived  in  the 
times  called  *' older  tertiary,"  which  succeeded  the  cre- 
taceous epoch ;  and  the  crocodiles  of  the  older  tertiaries 
are  not  identical  with  those  of  the  newer  tertiaries,  nor 
are  these  identical  with  existing  forms.  I  leave  open 
the  question  whether  particular  s|)ecies  may  have  lived 
on  from  epoch  to  epoch.  But  each  epoch  has  had  its 
peculiar  crocodiles;  though  all,  since  the  chalk,  have 
belonged  to  the  modern  type,  and  differ  simply  in  their 
proportions,  and  in  such  structural  particulars  as  aie 
discernible  only  to  trained  eyes. 

How  is  the  existence  of  this  lons^  succession  of  dif- 
ferent  species  of  crocodiles  to  be  accounted  for  ? 

Only  two  suppositions  seem  to  be  open  to  us — Either 
each  species  of  crocodile  has  been  specially  created,  or  it 
has  arisen  out  of  some  pre-existing  form  by  the  opera- 
tion of  natural  causes. 


IX.]  ON  A  PIECH  OF  CHALK.  201 

Choose  your  liypotliesis  ;  I  have  chosen  mine.  I  can 
find  no  warranty  for  believing  in  the  distinct  creation  of 
a  score  of  successive  species  of  crocodiles  in  the  course  of 
countless  ages  of  time.  Science  gives  no  countenance 
to  such  a  wild  fancy ;  nor  can  even  the  perverse 
ingenuity  of  a  commentator  pretend  to  discover  this 
sense,  in  the  simple  words  in  which  the  writer  of 
Genesis  records  the  proceedings  of  the  fifth  and  sixth 
days  of  the  Creation. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  see  no  good  reason  for  doubting 
the  necessary  alternative,  that  all  these  varied  species 
have  been  evolved  from  pre-existing  crocodilian  forms, 
by  the  operation  of  causes  as  completely  a  part  of  the 
common  order  of  nature,  as  those  which  have  effected 
the  changes  of  the  inorganic  world. 

Few  will  venture  to  affirm  that  the  reasonino-  which 
applies  to  crocodiles  loses  its  force  among  other  animals, 
or  among  plants.  If  one  series  of  species  has  come  into 
existence  by  the  operation  of  natural  causes,  it  seems 
folly  to  deny  that  all  may  have  arisen  in  the  same  way. 

A  small  beginning  has  led  us  to  a  great  ending.  If  I 
were  to  put  the  bit  of  chalk  with  which  we  started  into 
the  hot  but  obscure  flame  of  burning  hydrogen,  it  would 
presently  shine  like  the  sun.  It  seems  to  me  that  this 
physical  metamorphosis  is  no  false  image  of  what  has 
been  the  result  of  our  subjecting  it  to  a  jet  of  fervent, 
thouo;h  nowise  brilliant,  thouQ;ht  to-nioht.  It  has  become 
mminous,  and  its  clear  rays,  penetrating  the  abyss  of 
the  remote  past,  have  brought  within  our  ken  some  stages 
of  the  evolution  of  the  earth.  And  in  the  shifting^  "  with- 
ont  haste,  but  without  rest"  of  the  land  and  sea,  as  in  the 
endless  variation  of  the  forms  assumed  by  living  beings, 
we  have  observed  nothing  but  the  natural  product  of  the 
forces  originally  possessed  by  the  substance  of  the  universe. 


GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMPOEANEITY  AND 
PEESISTENT  TYPES  OF  LIFE. 


Merchants  occasionally  go  through  a  wholesome,  though 
troublesome  and  not  always  satisfactory,  process  which 
they  term  '' taking  stock/'  After  all  the  excitement  of 
speculation,  the  pleasure  of  gain,  and  the  pain  of  loss, 
the  trader  makes  up  his  mind  to  face  facts  and  to 
learn  the  exact  quantity  and  quality  of  his  solid  and 
reliable  possessions. 

The  man  of  science  does  well  sometimes  to  imitate 
this  procedure ;  and,  forgetting  for  the  time  the  import- 
ance of  his  own  small  winnings,  to  re-examine  the 
common  stock  in  trade,  so  that  he  may  make  sure  how 
far  the  stock  of  bullion  in  the  ceUar — on  the  faith  of 
whose  existence  so  much  paper  has  been  circulating — 
is  really  the  solid  gold  of  truth. 

The  Anniversary  Meeting  of  the  Geological  Society 
seems  to  be  an  occasion  well  suited  for  an  undertaking^ 
of  this  kind — for  an  inc]uiry,  in  fact,  into  the  nature  and 
value  of  the  present  results  of  paloeontological  investi- 
gation; and  the  more  so,  as  all  those  who  have  paid 
close  attention  to  the  late  multitudinous  discussions 
in  w^hich  palaeontology  is  implicated,  must  have  felt 
the  urgent  necessity  of  some  such  scrutiny. 


jl]  geological  C0NTE2IP0RANEIT}r.  203 

First  in  order,  as  tlie  most  definite  and  unquestionable 
of  all  tlie  results  of  palaeontology,  must  be  mentioned 
the  immense  extension  and  impulse  given  to  botany, 
zoology,  and  comparative  anatomy,  by  tlie  investigation 
of  fossil  remains.  Indeed,  the  mass  of  biological  facts 
has  been  so  greatly  increased,  and  the  range  of  biological 
speculation  has  been  so  vastly  widened,  by  the  researches 
of  the  geologist  and  palseontologist,  that  it  is  to  be  feared 
there  are  naturalists  in  existence  who  look  upon  geology 
as  Brindley  regarded  rivers.  "  Eivers,^^  said  the  great 
engineer,  "  were  made  to  feed  canals ; "  and  geology, 
some  seem  to  think,  was  solely  created  to  advance  com- 
parative anatomy. 

Were  such  a  thought  justifiable,  it  could  hardly  expect 
to  be  received  with  favour  by  this  assembly.  But  it 
is  not  justifiable.  Your  favourite  science  has  her  own 
great  aims  independent  of  all  others ;  and  if,  notwith- 
standing her  steady  devotion  to  her  own  progress,  she 
can  scatter  such  rich  alms  among  her  sisters,  it  should 
be  remembered  that  her  charity  is  of  the  sort  that 
does  not  impoverish,  but  "  blesseth  him  that  gives  and 
him  that  takes.'' 

Eegard  the  matter  as  we  will,  however,  the  facts 
remain.  Nearly  40,000  species  of  animals  and  plants 
have  been  added  to  the  Systema  Naturae  by  paloeonto- 
logical  research.  This  is  a  living  population  equivalent 
to  that  of  a  new  continent  in  mere  number ;  equivalent 
to  that  of  a  new  hemisphere,  if  we  take  into  account  the 
small  population  of  insects  as  yet  found  fossil,  and  the 
large  proportion  and  peculiar  organization  of  many  of 
the  Yertebrata. 

But,  beyond  this,  it  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  say 
that,  except  for  the  necessity  of  interpreting  palseonto- 
iogical  facts,  the  laws  of  distribution  would  have  received 
kss  careful  study ;    while  few  compai-ative   anatomists 


204  I'^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [x. 

(and  tliose  not  of  tlie  first  order)  would  liave  been 
induced  by  mere  love  of  detail,  as  sucb,  to  study  the 
minutise  of  osteology,  were  it  not  that  in  sucb  minutias 
lie  the  only  keys  to  the  most  interesting  riddles  offered 
by  tlie  extinct  animal  world. 

These  assuredly  are  great  and  solid  gains.  Surely  it 
is  matter  for  no  small  congratulation  that  in  half  a  cen- 
tury (for  palaeontology,  though  it  dawned  earlier,  came 
into  full  day  only  with  Cuvier)  a  subordinate  branch  of 
biology  should  have  doubled  the  value  and  the  interest 
of  the  whole  group  of  sciences  to  which  it  belongs. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Allied  with  geology,  palaeon- 
tology has  established  two  laws  of  inestimable  import- 
ance :  the  first,  that  one  and  the  same  area  of  the  earth's 
surface  has  been  successively  occupied  by  very  difi"erent 
kinds  of  living  beings ;  the  second,  that  the  order  of 
succession  established  in  one  locality  holds  good,  approxi- 
mately, in  all. 

The  first  of  these  laws  is  universal  and  irreversible ; 
the  second  is  an  induction  from  a  vast  number  of 
observations,  though  it  may  possibly,  and  even  pro- 
bably, have  to  admit  of  exceptions.  As  a  consequence 
of  the  second  law,  it  follows  that  a  peculiar  relation 
frequently  subsists  between  series  of  strata,  containing 
organic  remains,  in  difierent  localities.  The  series 
resemble  one  another,  not  only  in  virtue  of  a  general 
resemblance  of  the  organic  remains  in  the  two,  but  also 
in  virtue  of  a  resemblance  in  the  order  and  character 
of  the  serial  succession  in  each.  There  is  a  resemblance 
of  arrangement ;  so  that  the  separate  terms  of  each  series, 
as  well  as  the  whole  series,  exhibit  a  correspondence. 

Succession  implies  time ;  the  lower  members  of  a 
series  of  sedimentary  rocks  are  certainly  older  than 
the  upper ;  and  when  the  notion  of  age  was  once 
introduced   as   the   equivalent   of  succession,  it  was  no 


«.]  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMPORANEITY,  205 

wonder  that  correspondence  in  succession  came  to  be 
looked  upon  as  correspondence  in  age,  or  *'  contem- 
poraneity."" And,  indeed,  so  long  as  relative  age  only 
is  spoken  of,  correspondence  in  succession  is  correspon- 
dence in  age  ;    it  is  relative  contemporaneity. 

But  it  would  have  been  very  much  better  for  geology 
if  so  loose  and  ambiguous  a  word  as  "  contemporaneous  " 
had  been  excluded  from  her  terminology,  and  if,  in  its 
stead,  some  term  expressing  similarity  of  serial  relation, 
and  excluding  the  notion  of  time  altogether,  had  been 
employed  to  denote  correspondence  in  position  in  two 
or  more  series  of  strata. 

In  anatomy,  where  such  correspondence  of  position 
has  constantly  to  be  spoken  of,  it  is  denoted  by  the 
word  "  homology  "  and  its  derivatives  ;  and  for  Geology 
(which  after  all  is  only  the  anatomy  and  physiology 
of  the  earth)  it  might  be  well  to  invent  some  single 
word,  such  as  "homotaxis^^  (similarity  of  order),  in 
order  to  express  an  essentially  similar  idea.  This,  how- 
ever, has  not  been  done,  and  most  probably  the  inquiry 
will  at  once  be  made — To  what  end  burden  science  with 
a  new  and  strange  term  in  place  of  one  old,  familiar, 
and  part  of  our  common  language  ? 

The  reply  to  this  question  will  become  obvious  as 
the  inquiry  into  the  results  of  palaeontology  is  pushed 
further. 

Those  whose  business  it  is  to  acquaint  themselves 
specially  with  the  works  of  palaeontologists,  in  fact, 
will  be  fully  aware  that  very  few,  if  any,  would  rest 
satisfied  with  such  a  statement  of  the  conclusions  of 
their  branch  of  biology  as  that  which  has  just  been 
given. 

Our  standard  repertories  of  palaeontology  profess  to 
teach  us  far  hio;her  thinD;s — to  disclose  the  entire  sue- 

10 


206  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  xj 

cession  of  living  forms  upon  the  surface  of  the  globe ; 
to  tell  us  of  a  wholly  different  distribution  of  climatic 
conditions  in  ancient  times ;  to  reveal  the  character 
of  the  first  of  all  living  existences ;  and  to  trace  out 
the  law  of  progress  from  them  to  us. 

It  may  not  be  unprofitable  to  bestow  on  these  pro- 
fessions a  somewhat  more  critical  examination  than 
they  have  hitherto  received,  in  order  to  ascertain  how 
far  they  rest  on  an  irrefragable  basis ;  or  whether,  after 
all,  it  might  not  be  well  for  palaeontologists  to  learn 
a  little  more  carefully  that  scientific  ''  ars  artium,''  the 
art  of  saying  "I  don't  know/'  And  to  this  end  let 
us  define  somewhat  more  exactly  the  extent  of  these 
pretensions  of  palaeontology. 

Every  one  is  aware  that  Professor  Bronn's  "Unter- 
suchungen"'  and  Professor  Pictet's  ''Traite  de  Paleon- 
tologie''  are  works  of  standard  authority,  familiarly 
consulted  by  every  working  palaeontologist.  It  is  desir- 
able to  speak  of  these  excellent  books,  and  of  their 
distinguished  authors,  with  the  utmost  respect,  and  in 
a  tone  as  far  as  possible  removed  from  carping  criticism ; 
indeed,  if  they  are  specially  cited  in  this  place,  it  is 
merely  in  justification  of  the  assertion  that  the  follow- 
ing propositions,  which  may  be  found  implicitly,  or 
explicitly,  in  the  works  in  question,  are  regarded  by 
the  mass  of  palaeontologists  and  geologists,  not  only 
on  the  Continent  but  in  this  country,  as  expressing 
some  of  the  best-established  results  of  palaeontology. 
Thus  :— 

Animals  and  plants  began  their  existence  together, 
not  long  after  the  commencement  of  the  deposition  of 
the  sedimentary  rocks  ;  and  then  succeeded  one  another, 
in  such  a  manner,  that  totally  distinct  faunae  and  florae 
occupied  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth,  one  after  the 
other,  and  during  distinct  epochs  of  time. 


X.]  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMFORANEITY.  207 

A  geological  forination  is  the  sum  of  all  tlie  strata 
deposited  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  during 
one  of  these  epochs :  a  geological  fauna  or  flora  is  the 
sum  of  all  the  species  of  animals  or  plants  which 
occupied  the  w^hole  surface  of  the  globe,  during  one 
of  these  epochs. 

The  population  of  the  earth's  surface  was  at  first 
very  similar  in  all  parts,  and  only  from  the  middle  of 
the  Tertiary  epoch  onwards,  began  to  show  a  distinct 
distribution  in  zones. 

The  constitution  of  the  original  population,  as  well 
as  the  numerical  proportions  of  its  members,  indicates 
a  warmer  and,  on  the  whole,  somewhat  tropical  climate, 
which  remained  tolerably  equable  throughout  the  year. 
The  subsequent  distribution  of  living  beings  in  zones 
is  the  result  of  a  gradual  lowering  of  the  general 
temperature,  w^hich  first  began  to  be  felt  at  the 
poles. 

It  is  not  now  proposed  to  inquire  whether  these 
doctrines  are  true  or  false ;  but  to  direct  your  atten- 
tion to  a  much  simpler  though  very  essential  preliminary 
question — What  is  their  logical  basis  ?  what  are  the 
fundamental  assumptions  upon  which  they  all  logically 
depend  ?  and  what  is  the  evidence  on  which  those 
fundamental  propositions  demand  our  assent  ? 

These  assumptions  are  two :  the  first,  that  the  com- 
mencement of  the  geological  record  is  coeval  with  the 
commencement  of  life  on  the  globe  ;  the  second,  that 
geological  contemporaneity  is  the  same  thing  as  chrono- 
logical synchrony.  Without  the  first  of  these  assump- 
tions there  would  of  course  be  no  ground  for  any 
statement  respecting  the  commencement  of  life  ;  with- 
out the  second,  all  the  other  statements  cited,  every 
one   of    which   implies   a   knowledge   of    the    state   of 


208  LJi^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [i 

different  parts  of  tlie  eartli  at  one  and  tlie  same  time, 
will  be  no  less  devoid  of  demonstration. 

The  first  assumption  obviously  rests  entirely  on 
negative  evidence.  This  is,  of  course,  the  only  evidence 
that  ever  can  be  available  to  prove  the  commencement 
of  any  series  of  phsenomena;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
it  must  be  recollected  that  the  value  of  negative 
evidence  depends  entirely  on  the  amount  of  positive 
corroboration  it  receives.  If  A.  B.  wishes  to  prove  an 
alibi,  it  is  of  no  use  for  him  to  get  a  thousand  witnesses 
simply  to  swear  that  they  did  not  see  him  in  such 
and  such  a  place,  unless  the  witnesses  are  prepared 
to  prove  that  they  must  have  seen  him  had  he  been 
there.  But  the  evidence  that  animal  life  commenced 
with  the  Lingula-flags,  e.g.,  would  seem  to  be  exactly 
of  this  unsatisfactory  uncorroborated  sort.  The  Cam- 
brian witnesses  simply  swear  they  "haven't  seen  any- 
body their  way;"  upon  which  the  counsel  for  the 
other  side  immediately  puts  in  ten  or  twelve  thousand 
feet  of  Devonian  sandstones  to  make  oath  they  never 
saw  a  fish  or  a  mollusk,  though  all  the  world  knows 
there  were  plenty  in  their  time. 

But  then  it  is  urged  that,  though  the  Devonian 
rocks  in  one  part  of  the  world  exhibit  no  fossils,  in 
another  they  do,  while  the  lower  Cambrian  rocks  no- 
where exhibit  fossils,  and  hence  no  living  being  could 
have  existed  in  their  epoch. 

To  this  there  are  two  replies  :  the  first,  that  the 
observational  basis  of  the  assertion  that  the  lowest 
rocks  are  nowhere  fossiliferous  is  an  amazingly  small 
one,  seeing  how  very  small  an  area,  in  comparison  to 
that  of  the  wdiole  world,  has  yet  been  fully  searched  ; 
the  second,  that  the  argument  is  good  for  nothing  unless 
the  unfossiliferous  rocks  in  question  were  not  only 
contem2Doraneous  in  the  geological  sense,  but  synchronous 


X.]  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMPORANEITY,  209 

in  tlie  clironological  sense.  To  use  the  cxlihi  illustratioa 
again.  If  a  man  wishes  to  prove  he  was  in  neither 
of  two  places,  A  and  B,  on  a  given  day,  his  witnesses 
for  each  place  must  be  prepared  to  answer  for  the 
whole  day.  If  they  can  only  prove  that  he  was  not 
at  A  in  the  morning,  and  not  at  B  in  the  afternoon, 
the  evidence  of  his  absence  from  both  is  nil,  because 
he  might  have  been  at  B  in  the  morning  and  at  A  in 
the  afternoon. 

Thus  everything  depends  upon  the  validity  of  the 
second  assumption.  And  we  must  proceed  to  inquire 
what  is  the  real  meaning  of  the  word  "  contemporaneous'^ 
as  employed  by  geologists.  To  this  end  a  concrete 
example  may  be  taken. 

The  Lias  of  England  and  the  Lias  of  Germany,  the 
Cretaceous  rocks  of  Britain  and  the  Cretaceous  rocks 
of  Southern  India,  are  termed  by  geologists  "  contem- 
poraneous ''  formations  ;  but  whenever  any  thoughtful 
geologist  is  asked  whether  he  means  to  say  that  they 
were  deposited  synchronously,  he  says,  "  No, — only 
within  the  same  great  epoch.''  And  if,  in  pursuing 
the  inquiry,  he  is  asked  what  may  be  the  approximate 
value  in  time  of  a  *'  great  epoch  '^ — whether  it  means 
a  hundred  years,  or  a  thousand,  or  a  million,  or  ten 
million  years — his  reply  is,  "  I  cannot  tell." 

If  the  further  question  be  put,  whether  physical 
geology  is  in  possession  of  any  method  by  which  the 
actucil  synchrony  (or  the  reverse)  of  any  two  distant 
deposits  can  be  ascertained,  no  such  method  can  be 
heard  of ;  it  being  admitted  by  all  the  best  authorities 
that  neither  similarity  of  mineral  composition,nor  of 
physical  character,  nor  even  direct  continuity  of  stratum, 
are  ahsolute  proofs  of  the  synchronism  of  even  approxi- 
mated sedimentary  strata  :  while,  for  distant  deposits, 
there  seems  to  be  no  kind  of  physical  evidence  attain- 


210  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [s 

able  of  a  nature  competent  to  decide  wlietlier  such 
deposits  were  formed  simultaneously,  or  whether  they 
possess  any  given  difference  of  antiquity.  To  return 
to  an  example  already  given.  All  competent  authorities 
will  probably  assent  to  the  proposition  that  physical 
geology  does  not  enable  us  in  any  way  to  reply  to 
this  question — Were  the  British  Cretaceous  rocks  depo- 
sited at  the  same  time  as  those  of  India,  or  are  they  a 
million  of  years  younger  or  a  million  of  years  older  ? 

Is  palaeontology  able  to  succeed  where  physical 
geology  fails  ?  Standard  writers  on  palaeontology,  as 
has  been  seen,  assume  that  she  can.  They  take  it  for 
granted,  that  deposits  containing  similar  organic  remains 
are  synchronous — at  any  rate  in  a  broad  sense ;  aud 
yet,  those  who  will  study  the  eleventh  and  twelfth 
chapters  of  Sir  Henry  De  la  Beche's  remarkable  ^'Ee- 
searches  in  Theoretical  Geology,"  published  now  nearly 
thirty  years  ago,  and  will  carry  out  the  arguments 
there  most  luminousl}^  stated,  to  their  logical  conse- 
qences,  may  very  easily  convince  themselves  that 
even  absolute  identity  of  organic  contents  is  no  proof 
of  the  synchrony  of  deposits,  while  absolute  diversity 
is  no  proof  of  difference  of  date.  Sir  Henry  De  la 
Beche  goes  even  further,  and  adduces  conclusive  evidence 
to  show  that  the  different  parts  of  one  and  the  same 
stratum,  having  a  similar  composition  throughout,  con- 
taining the  same  organic  remains,  and  having  similar 
beds  above  and  below  it,  may  yet  differ  to  any  con- 
ceivable extent  in  ag:e. 

Edward  Forbos  was  in  the  habit  of  asserting  that 
the  similarity  of  the  organic  contents  of  distant  forma- 
tions was  primd  facie  evidence,  not  of  their  similarity, 
but  of  their  difference  of  age ;  and  holding  as  he  did 
the  doctrine  of  single  specific  centres,  the  conclusion 
was  as  legitimate   as   any  other;  for  the  two  districts 


t.]  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMPORANEITY,  211 

must  have  been  occupied  by  migration  from  one  of  the 
two,  or  from  an  intermediate  spot,  and  the  chances 
against  exact  coincidence  of  migration  and  of  imbedding 
are  infinite. 

In  point  of  fact,  however,  whether  the  hypothesis 
of  single  or  of  multiple  specific  centres  be  adopted, 
similarity  of  organic  contents  cannot  possibly  afibrd 
any  proof  of  the  synchrony  of  the  deposits  which 
contain  them ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  demonstrably 
compatible  with  the  lapse  of  the  most  prodigious 
intervals  of  time,  and  w^ith  interposition  of  vast  changes 
in  the  organic  and  inorganic  worlds,  between  the  epochs 
in  which  such  deposits  were  formed. 

On  wdiat  amount  of  similarity  of  their  faunse  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  contemporaneity  of  the  European  and 
of  the  North  American  Silurians  based  ?  In  the  last 
edition  of  Sir  Charles  Lyell's  "Elementary  Geology" 
it  is  stated,  on  the  authority  of  a  former  President  of 
this  Society,  the  late  Daniel  Sharpe,  that  between 
30  and  40  per  cent,  of  the  species  of  Silurian  MoUusca 
are  common  to  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  By  way 
of  due  allowance  for  further  discovery,  let  us  double 
the  lesser  number  and  suppose  that  60  per  cent,  of 
the  species  are  common  to  the  North  American  and 
the  British  Silurians.  Sixty  per  cent,  of  species  in 
common  is,  then,  proof  of  contemporaneity. 

Now  suppose  that,  a  million  or  two  of  years  hence, 
when  Britian  has  made  another  dip  beneath  the  sea 
and  has  come  up  again,  some  geologist  applies  this 
doctrine,  in  comparing  the  strata  laid  bare  by  the 
upheaval  of  the  bottom,  say,  of  St.  George's  Channel 
with  what  may  then  remain  of  the  Sufi'olk  Crag. 
Reasoning  in  the  same  way,  he  will  at  once  decide 
the  Sufi'olk  Crag  and  the  St.  George's  Channel  beds 
to  be  contemporaneous  ;  although  we  happen  to  know 


212  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [x. 

that  a  vast  period  (even  in  tlie  geological  sense)  of 
time,  and  physical  changes  of  almost  unprecedented 
extent,  separate  the  two. 

But  if  it  be  a  demonstrable  fact  that  strata  con- 
taining more  than  60  or  70  per  cent,  of  species  of 
Mollusca  in  common,  and  comparatively  close  together, 
may  yet  be  separated  by  an  amount  of  geological  time 
sufficient  to  allow  of  some  of  the  greatest  physical 
changes  the  world  has  seen,  what  becomes  of  that 
sort  of  contemporaneity  the  sole  evidence  of  which 
is  a  similarity  of  facies,  or  the  identity  of  half  a  dozen 
species,  or  of  a  good  many  genera  1 

And  yet  there  is  no  better  evidence  for  the  contem- 
poraneity assumed  by  all  who  adopt  the  hypotheses 
of  universal  faunae  and  florse,  of  a  universally  uniform 
climate,  and  of  a  sensible  coolino^  of  the  2flobe  clurino- 
geological  time. 

There  seems,  then,  no  escape  from  the  admission  that 
neither  physical  geology,  nor  palaeontology,  possesses 
any  method  by  which  the  absolute  synchronism  of  two 
strata  can  be  demonstrated.  All  that  geology  can 
prove  is  local  order  of  succession.  It  is  mathematically 
certain  that,  in  any  given  vertical  linear  section  of  an 
undisturbed  series  of  sedimentary  deposits,  the  bed 
which  lies  lowest  is  the  oldest.  In  any  other  vertical 
linear  section  of  the  same  series,  of  course,  corresponding 
beds  will  occur  in  a  similar  order  ;  but,  however  great 
may  be  the  probability,  no  man  can  say  with  absolute 
certainty  that  the  beds  in  the  two  sections  were  syn- 
chronously deposited.  For  areas  of  moderate  extent, 
it  is  doubtless  true  that  no  practical  evil  is  likely  to 
result  from  assuming  the  corresponding  beds  to  be 
synchronous  or  strictly  contemporaneous ;  and  there 
are  multitudes  of  accessory  circumstances  which  may 
fully  justify  the  assumption  of  such  synchrony.      But 


X.J  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEMPORANEITY,  213 

tlie  moment  the  geologist  lias  to  deal  with  large  areas, 
or  with  completely  separated  deposits,  the  mischief 
of  confounding  that  *'  homotaxis "  or  *'  similarity  of 
arrangement,"  which  can  be  demonstrated,  with  "  syn- 
chrony" or  "identity  of  date,"  for  which  there  is  not 
a  shadow  of  proof,  under  the  one  common  term  of 
'  contemporaneity "  becomes  incalculable,  and  proves 
the  constant  source  of  gratuitous  speculations. 

For  anything  that  geology  or  paljBontology  are  able 
to  show  to  the  contrary,  a  Devonian  fauna  and  flora 
in  the  British  Islands  may  have  been  contemporaneous 
with  Silurian  life  in  North  America,  and  with  a  Car- 
boniferous fauna  and  flora  in  Africa.  Geographical  pro- 
vinces and  zones  may  have  been  as  distinctly  marked  in 
the  Paleeozoic  epoch  as  at  present,  and  those  seemingly 
sudden  appearances  of  new  genera  and  species,  which  Ave 
ascribe  to  new  creation,  may  be  simple  results  of  migration. 

It  may  be  so  ;  it  may  be  otherwise.  In  the  present 
condition  of  our  knowledge  and  of  our  methods,  one 
verdict — ''not  proven,  and  not  proveable" — must  be 
recorded  against  all  the  grand  hypotheses  of  the  palaeon- 
tologist respecting  the  general  succession  of  life  on  the 
globe.  The  order  and  nature  of  terrestrial  life,  as  a 
wdiole,  are  open  questions.  Geology  at  present  provides 
us  with  most  valuable  topographical  records,  but  she 
has  not  the  means  of  working  them  into  a  universal 
history.  Is  such  a  universal  history,  then,  to  be  regarded 
as  unattainable  ?  Are  all  the  grandest  and  most  in- 
teresting problems  which  ofi"er  themselves  to  the 
geological  student  essentially  insoluble  %  Is  he  in  the 
position  of  a  scientific  Tantalus — doomed  always  to 
thirst  for  a  knowledge  which  he  cannot  obtain  ?  The 
reverse  is  to  be  hoped ;  nay,  it  may  not  be  impossible 
to  indicate  the  source  whence  help  will  come. 

In  commencing  these  remarks,  mention  was  made  of 


214  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [x 

the  great  obligations  under  wliicli  tile  naturalist  lies  to 
tlie  geologist  and  palaeontologist.  Assuredly  tlie  time 
will  come  when  these  obligations  will  be  repaid  tenfold, 
and  when  the  maze  of  the  workFs  past  history,  through 
which  the  pure  geologist  and  the  pure  palaeontologist 
find  no  guidance,  will  be  securely  threaded  by  the  clue 
furnished  by  the  naturalist. 

All  who  are  competent  to  express  an  opinion  on  the 
subject  are,  at  present,  agreed  that  the  manifold  varieties 
of  animal  and  vegetable  form  have  not  either  come  into 
existence  by  chance,  nor  result  from  capricious  exertions 
of  creative  power ;  but  that  they  have  taken  place  in  a 
definite  order,  the  statement  of  which  order  is  what 
men  of  science  term  a  natural  law.  Whether  such  a 
law  is  to  be  regarded  as  an  expression  of  the  mode  of 
operation  of  natural  forces,  or  whether  it  is  simply  a 
statement  of  the  manner  in  which  a  supernatural  power 
has  thought  fit  to  act,  is  h  secondary  question,  so  long 
as  the  existence  of  the  law  and  the  possibility  of  its 
discovery  by  the  human  intellect  are  granted.  But  he 
must  be  a  half-hearted  philosopher  who,  believing  in 
that  possibility,  and  having  watched  the  gigantic  strides 
of  the  biological  sciences  during  the  last  twenty  years, 
doubts  that  science  will  sooner  or  later  make  this  further 
step,  so  as  to  become  possessed  of  the  law  of  evolution 
of  organic  forms — of  the  unvarying  order  of  that  great 
chain  of  causes  and  effects  of  which  all  organic  forms, 
ancient  and  modern,  are  the  links.  And  then,  if  ever, 
we  shall  be  able  to  begin  to  discuss,  with  profit,  the 
questions  respecting  the  commencement  of  life,  and  the 
nature  of  the  successive  populations  of  the  globe,  which 
so  many  seem  to  think  are  already  answered. 

The  preceding  arguments  make  no  particular  claim  to 
novelty ;  indeed  they  have  been  fi oating  more   or  less 


X.]  GEOLOGICAL  CONTEIIPORANEITr.  215 

distiuctly  before  tlie  minds  of  geologists  for  tlie  last 
thirty  years  ;  and  if,  at  tlie  present  time,  it  has  seemed 
desirable  to  give  them  more  definite  and  systematic 
expression,  it  is  because  palaeontology  is  every  day 
assuming  a  greater  importance,  and  now  requires  to 
rest  on  a  basis  the  firmness  of  which  is  thoroughly  well 
assured.  Among  its  fundamental  conceptions,  there 
must  be  no  confusion  between  what  is  certain  and 
what  is  more  or'  less  probable.^  But,  pending  the 
construction  of  a  surer  foundation  than  palaeontology 
now  possesses,  it  may  be  instructive,  assuming  for  the 
nonce  the  general  correctness  of  the  ordinary  hypothesis 
of  geological  contemporaneity,  to  consider  whether  the 
deductions  which  are  ordinarily  drawn  from  the  whole 
body  of  palaeontological  facts  are  justifiable. 

The  evidence  on  which  such  conclusions  are  based  is 
of  two  kinds,  negative  and  positive.  The  value  of 
negative  evidence,  in  connexion  with  this  inquiry,  has 
been  so  fully  and  clearly  discussed  in  an  address  from 
the  chair  of  this  Society,^  which  none  of  us  have 
forgotten,  that  nothing  need  at  present  be  said  about 
it ;  the  more,  as  the  considerations  which  have  been 
laid  before  you  have  certainly  not  tended  to  increase 
your  estimation  of  such  evidence.  It  will  be  preferable 
to  turn  to  the  positive  facts  of  palaeontology,  and  to 
inquire  what  they  tell  us. 

We  are  all  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  number  and 
the  extent  of  the  changes  in  the  living  population  of 
the  globe  during  geological  time  as  something  enormous ; 
and  indeed  they  are  so,  if  we  regard  only  the  negative 
difierences  which  separate  the  older  rocks  from  the 
more  modern,  and  if  we  look  upon  specific  and  generic 

*  **  Le  plus  grand  service  qu'on  pnisse  rendre  k  la  science  est  d'y  faire  plac6 
Dette  ayant  d'y  rien  construire." — Cuvier. 
'  Aimiversary  Address  for  1851,  Quart.  Journ.  Geol.  Soc.  vol.  vii 


216  L^Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [x. 

clianges  as  great  changes,  wliich  from  one  point  of  view 
tliey  truly  are.  But  leaving  tlie  negative  differences 
out  of  consideration,  and  looking  only  at  tlie  positive 
data  furnislied  by  the  fossil  world  from  a  broader  point 
of  view — from  that  of  the  comparative  anatomist  who 
has  made  the  study  of  the  greater  modifications  of 
animal  form  his  chief  business — a  surprise  of  another 
kind  dawns  upon  the  mind ;  and  under  this  aspect  the 
smallness  of  the  total  change  becomes  as  astonishing  as 
was  its  greatness  under  the  other. 

There  are  two  hundred  known  orders  of  plants;  of 
these  not  one  is  certainly  known  to  exist  exclusively 
in  the  fossil  state,  The  whole  lapse  of  geological  time 
has  as  yet  yielded  not  a  single  new  ordinal  type  of 
vegetable  structure.^ 

The  positive  change  in  passing  from  the  recent  to  the 
ancient  animal  world  is  greater,  but  still  singularly 
small.  No  fossil  animal  is  so  distinct  from  those  now 
living  as  to  require  to  be  arranged  even  in  a  separate 
class  from  those  which  contain  existing  forms.  It  is 
only  when  we  come  to  the  orders,  v/hich  may  be 
roughly  estimated  at  about  a  hundred  and  thirty,  that 
we  meet  with  fossil  animals  so  distinct  from  those  now 
living  as  to  require  orders  for  themselves  ;  and  these  do 
not  amount,  on  the  most  liberal  estimate,  to  more  than 
about  10  per  cent,  of  the  whole. 

There  is  no  certainly  known  extinct  order  of  Protozoa; 
there  is  but  one  amono^  the  Coelenterata — that  of  the 
rugose  corals  ;  there  is  none  among  the  Mollusca  ;  there 
are  three,  the  Cystidea,  Blastoidea,  and  Edrioasterida, 
among  the  Echinoderms  ;  and  two,  the  Trilobita  and 
Eurypterida,  among  the  Crustacea ;  making  altogether 
five  for  the  great  sub-kingdom  of  Annulosa.     Among 

^  See   Hooker's    "  Introductory  Essay    to    tlie   Flora    of    Tasmania," 
p.  xxiiL 


X.]  PERSISTENT  TYPES  OF  LIFE.  217 

Vertebrates  there  is  no  ordinally  distinct  fossil  fisli : 
there  is  only  one  extinct  order  of  Amphibia — the  Laby- 
rinthodonts ;  but  there  are  at  least  four  distinct  orders 
of  Eeptilia,  viz.  the  Ichthyosauria,  Plesiosanria,  Ptero- 
sauria,  Dinosauria,  and  perhaps  another  or  two.  There 
is  no  known  extinct  order  of  Birds,  and  no  certainly 
known  extinct  order  of  Mammals,  the  ordinal  distinct- 
ness of  the  "  Toxodontia  '^  being  doubtful. 

The  objection  that  broad  statements  of  this  kind,  after 
all,  rest  largely  on  negative  evidence  is  obvious,  but  it 
has  less  force  than  may  at  first  be  supposed  ;  for,  as 
might  be  expected  from  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
we  possess  more  abundant  positive  evidence  regarcliug 
Fishes  and  marine  MoUusks  than  respecting  any  other 
forms  of  animal  life ;  and  yet  these  ofier  us,  through  the 
whole  range  of  geological  time,  no  species  ordinarily 
distinct  from  those  now  living ;  while  the  far  less 
numerous  class  of  Echinoderms  presents  three,  and  the 
Crustacea  two,  such  orders,  though  none  of  these  come 
down  later  than  the  Palaeozoic  age.  Lastly,  the  Eeptilia 
present  the  extraordinary  and  exceptional  phaenomenon 
of  as  many  extinct  as  existing  orders,  if  not  more ;  the 
four  mentioned  maintaining  their  existence  from  the 
Lias  to  the  Chalk  inclusive. 

Some  years  ago  one  of  your  Secretaries  pointed  out 
another  kind  of  positive  palseontological  evidence  tend- 
ing towards  the  same  conclusion — afforded  by  the 
existence  of  what  he  termed  "  persistent  types  "  of  vege- 
table and  of  animal  life.^  He  stated,  on  the  authority 
of  Dr.  Hooker,  that  there  are  Carboniferous  plants  which 
appear  to  be  generically  identical  with  some  now  li\dng  ; 
that  the  cone  of  the  Oolitic  Araucaria  is  hardly  distin- 

■*•  See  the  abstract  of  a  Lecture  "On  the  Persistent  Types  of  Animal  Life, 
in  the  "Notices  of  the  Meetings  of  the  Koyal  Listitution  of  Great  Erittiiii/' 
-— Jrne  3,  1859,  voL  i:i.  p.  151. 


218  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEIFS,  [s. 

guishable  from  that  of  an  existing  species ;  tliat  a  true 
Pinus  appears  in  the  Purbecks,  and  a  Juglans  in  the 
Chalk;  while,  from  the  Bagshofc  Sands,  a  Banhsia,  the 
wood  of  which  is  not  distingnishable  from  that  of  species 
now  living  in  Australia,  had  been  obtained. 

Turning  to  the  animal  kingdom,  he  affirmed  the  tabu- 
late corals  of  the  Silurian  rocks  to  be  wonderfully  like 
those  which  now  exist ;  while  even  the  families  of  the 
Aporosa  were  all  represented  in  the  older  Mesozoic 
rocks. 

Among  the  Mollusca  similar  facts  were  adduced. 
Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  Avicula,  Mytails,  Chiton, 
Natica,  Patella,  Trochus,  Discina,  Orhicula,  Lingida, 
Rliynclionella,  and  Nautilus,  all  of  which  are  existing 
genera,  are  given  without  a  doubt  as  Silurian  in  the 
last  edition  of  "  Siluria ; ''  while  the  highest  forms  of 
the  highest  Cephalopods  are  represented  in  the  Lias  by 
a  genus,  Belemnoteutliis,  which  presents  the  closest  rela- 
tion to  the  existing  Loligo. 

The  two  highest  groups  of  the  Annulosa,  the  Insecta 
and  the  Arachnida,  are  represented  in  the  Coal,  either 
by  existing  genera,  or  by  forms  differing  from  existing 
genera  in  quite  minor  peculiarities. 

Turning  to  the  Yertebrata,  the  only  palaeozoic  Elas- 
mobranch  Fish  of  which  we  have  any  complete  know- 
ledge is  the  Devonian  and  Carboniferous  Pleuracanthus, 
which  differs  no  more  fi:om  existing  Sharks  than  these 
do  from  one  another. 

Again,  vast  as  is  the  number  of  undoubtedly  Ganoid 
fossil  Fishes,  and  great  as  is  their  range  in  time,  a  large 
mass  of  evidence  has  recently  been  adduced  to  show  that 
almost  all  those  respecting  which  we  possess  sufficient 
information,  are  referable  to  the  same  sub-ordinal  groups 
as  the  existing  Lepidosteus,  Polypterus,  and  Sturgeon  ; 
and  that  a  singular  relation  obtains  between  the  older 


jl]  persistent  types  of  life.  219 

and  the  younger  Fislies ;  the  former,  the  Devonian 
Ganoids,  being  almost  all  members  of  the  same  sub-order 
as  Folypterus,  while  the  Mesozoic  Ganoids  are  almost 
all  similarly  allied  to  Lepidosteus} 

Again,  what  can  be  more  remarkable  than  the  singular 
constancy  of  structure  preserved  throughout  a  vast  period 
of  time  by  the  family  of  the  Pycnodonts  and  by  that 
of  the  true  Coelacanths :  the  former  persisting,  with  but 
insignificant  modifications,  from  the  Carboniferous  to  the 
Tertiary  rocks,  inclusive  ;  the  latter  existing,  with  still 
less  change,  from  the  Carboniferous  rocks  to  the  Chalk, 
inclusive  ? 

Among  Eeptiles,  the  highest  living  group,  that  of  the 
Crocodilia,  is  represented,  at  the  early  part  of  the  Mesozoic 
epoch,  by  species  identical  in  the  essential  characters  o^ 
their  organization  with  those  now  living,  and  clifiering 
from  the  latter  only  in  such  matters  as  the  form  of  the 
articular  facets  of  the  vertebral  centra,  in  the  extent 
to  which  the  nasal  passages  are  separated  from  the 
cavity  of  the  mouth  by  bone,  and  in  the  proportions 
of  the  limbs. 

And  even  as  regards  the  Mammalia,  the  scanty 
remains  of  Triassic  and  Oolitic  species  afi"ord  no  founda- 
tion for  the  supposition  that  the  organization  of  the 
oldest  forms  differed  nearly  so  much  from  some  of  those 
which  now  live  as  these  differ  from  one  another. 

It  is  needless  to  multiply  these  instances  ;  enough  has 
been  said  to  justify  the  statement  that,  in  view  of  the 
immense  diversity  of  known  animal  and  vegetable  forms, 
and  the  enormous  lapse  of  time  indicated  by  the  accumu- 
lation of  fossiliferous  strata,  the  only  circumstance  to  be 
wondered  at  is,  not  that  the  changes  of  life,  as  exhibited 

'  "  Memoirs  oi  tlie  Geological  Survey  of  the  United  Kingdom. — Decade  x. 
Preliminary  Essay  upon  the  Systematic  Arrangement  of  the  Fishes  of  the 
Devonian  Epoch." 


220  l^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [x 

by  positive  evidence,  have  been  so  great,  but  thai:  they 
have  been  so  small. 

Be  they  great  or  small,  however,  it  is  desirable  to 
attempt  to  estimate  them.  Let  us,  therefore,  take  each 
great  division  of  the  animal  world  in  succession,  and, 
whenever  an  order  or  a  family  can  be  shown  to  have 
had  a  prolonged  existence,  let  us  endeavour  to  ascertain 
how  far  the  later  members  of  the  group  differ  from  the 
earlier  ones.  If  these  later  members,  in  all  or  in  many 
cases,  exhibit  a  certain  amount  of  modification,  the  fact 
is,  so  far,  evidence  in  favour  of  a  general  law  of  change  ; 
and,  in  a  rough  way,  the  rapidity  of  that  change  will  be 
measured  by  the  demonstrable  amount  of  modification. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  recollected  that  the 
absence  of  any  modification,  while  it  may  leave  the 
doctrine  of  the  existence  of  a  law  of  change  without 
positive  support,  cannot  possibly  disprove  all  forms  of 
that  doctrine,  though  it  may  afford  a  sufficient  refuta- 
tion of  many  of  them. 

The  Peotozoa. — The  Protozoa  are  represented  through- 
out the  whole  range  of  geological  series,  from  the  Lower 
Silurian  formation  to  the  present  day.  The  most 
ancient  forms  recently  made  known  by  Ehrenberg  are 
exceedingly  like  those  which  now  exist :  no  one  has  ever 
pretended  that  the  difference  between  any  ancient  and 
any  modern  Foraminifera  is  of  more  than  generic  value 
nor  are  the  oldest  Foraminifera  either  simpler,  more 
embryonic,  or  less  differentiated,  than  the  existing  forms. 

The  CcELEXTERATA. — The  Tabulate  Corals  have  existed 
from  the  Silurian  epoch  to  the  present  day,  but  I  am  not 
aware  that  the  ancient  Ileliolites  possesses  a  single  mark 
of  a  more  embryonic  or  less  differentiated  character,  or 
less  high  organization,  than  the  existing  Ileliopora.  As 
for  the  Aporose  Corals,  in  what  respect  is  the  Silurian 


X.]  PERSISTENT  TYFES  OF  LIFE  221 

Palceooyclus  less  liiglily  organized  or  more  01111313^01110 
tlian  the  modern  Fiingia,  or  the  Liassic  Aporosa  than 
the  existmo*  members  of  the  same  families  ? 

The  MoUusca. — In  what  sense  is  the  living:  Wold- 
lieimia  less  embryonic,  or  more  specialized,  than  the 
palaeozoic  Spirifer ;  or  the  existing  RliynclionellcB,  Cra- 
nice,  DiscincB,  Lingulce,  than  the  Silurian  species  of  the 
same  genera  ?  In  what  sense  can  Loligo  or  Spirilla 
be  said  to  be  more  specialized,  or  less  embryonic,  than 
Belemnites ;  or  the  modern  species  of  Lamellibranch  and 
Gasteropod  genera,  than  the  Silurian  species  of  the  same 
genera  ? 

The  Annulosa. — The  Carboniferous  Insecta  and  Aracli- 
nida  are  neither  less  specialized,  nor  more  embryonic, 
than  those  that  now  live,  nor  are  the  Liassic  Cirripedia 
and  Macrura  ;  while  several  of  the  Brachyura,  which 
appear  in  the  Chalk,  belong  to  existing  genera  ;  and 
none  exhibit  either  an  intermediate,  or  an  embryonic, 
character. 

The  Veetebrata. — Among  fishes  I  have  referred  to 
the  Coelacanthini  (comprising  the  genera  Cmacanthus, 
Holophagus,  Undma,  and  Macropoma)  as  affording  an 
example  of  a  persistent  type ;  and  it  is  most  remarkable 
to  note  the  smallness  of  the  differences  between  any  of 
these  fishes  (affecting  at  most  the  j^roportions  of  the 
body  and  fins,  and  the  character  and  sculpture  of  the 
scales),  notwithstanding  their  enormous  range  in  time 
In  all  the  essentials  of  its  very  peculiar  structure,  the 
Macropoma  of  the  Chalk  is  identical  with  the  Ccdacan- 
thus  of  the  Coal.  Look  at  the  genus  Lepidotus,  again, 
persisting  without  a  modification  of  importance  from  the 
Liassic  to  the  Eocene  formations  inclusive. 

Or  among  the  Teleostei — in  what  respect  is  the  Beryx 
of  the  Chalk  more  embryonic,  or  less  differentiated,  than 
Beryx  lineatus  of  King  George  s  Sound  \ 


222  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEJf^S.  [x. 

Or  to  turn  to  tlie  liiglier  Vertebrata — in  what  sense 
are  the  Liassic  Chelonia  inferior  to  those  which  now 
exist  ?  How  are  the  Creta.ceous  Ichthyosauria,  Plesio- 
sauria,  or  Pterosauria  less  embryonic,  or  more  differ- 
entiated, species  than  those  of  the  Lias  ? 

Or  lastly,  in  what  circumstance  is  the  Fhascolotherium 
more  embryonic,  or  of  a  more  generalized  type,  than  the 
modern  Opossum ;  or  a  Lophiodon,  or  a  Palceotheriuiii, 
than  a  modern  Tapirus  or  Hyrax  ? 

These  examples  might  be  almost  indefinitely  multi- 
plied, but  surely  they  are  sufficient  to  prove  that  the 
only  safe  and  unquestionable  testimony  we  can  procure 
— positive  evidence — fails  to  demonstrate  any  sort  of 
progressive  modification  towards  a  less  embryonic,  or  less 
generalized,  type  in  a  great  many  groups  of  animals  of 
long-continued  geological  existence.  In  these  groups 
there  is  abundant  evidence  of  variation — none  of  what 
is  ordinarily  understood  as  progression ;  and,  if  the 
known  geological  record  is  to  be  regarded  as  even  any 
considerable  fragment  of  the  whole,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  any  theory  of  a'  necessarily  progressive  development 
can  stand,  for  the  numerous  orders  and  families  cited 
afford  no  trace  of  such  a  process. 

But  it  is  a  most  remarkable  fact,  that,  while  the 
groups  which  have  been  mentioned,  and  many  besides, 
exhibit  no  sign  of  progressive  modification,  there  are 
others,  co-existing  with  them,  nnder  the  same  conditions, 
in  which  more  or  less  distinct  indications  of  such  a 
process  seem  to  be  traceable.  Among  such  indications 
I  may  remind  you  of  the  predominance  of  Holostome 
Gastero23oda  in  the  older  rocks  as  compared  with  that  of 
Siphonostome  Gasteropoda  in  the  later.  A  case  less  open 
to  the  objection  of  negative  evidence,  however,  is  that 
afforded  by  the  Tetrabranchiate  Cephalopoda,  the  forms 
of  the   shells   and   of  the   septal   sutures   exhibiting  a 


2fJ  PERSISTENT  TYPES  OF  LIFE.  223 

certain  increase  of  complexity  in  the  newer  genera. 
Here,  however,  one  is  met  at  once  with  the  occurence 
of  Orthoceras  and  Baculites  at  the  two  ends  of  the 
series,  and  of  the  fact  that  one  of  the  simplest  genera, 
Nautilus,  is  that  which  now  exists. 

The  Crinoidea,  in  the  abundance  of  stalked  forms  in 
the  ancient  formations  as  compared  with  their  present 
rarity,  seem  to  present  us  with  a  fair  case  of  modification 
from  a  more  embryonic  towards  a  less  embryonic  con- 
dition. But  then,  on  careful  consideration  of  the  facts, 
the  objection  arises  that  the  stalk,  calyx,  and  arms  of 
the  palaeozoic  Crinoid  are  exceedingly  different  from  the 
corresponding  organs  of  a  larval  Comatula ;  and  it  might 
with  perfect  justice  be  argued  that  Actinocrinus  and 
Eucalyptocrinus,  for  example,  depart  to  the  full  as 
widely,  in  one  direction,  from  the  stalked  embryo  of 
Comatula,  as  Comatula  itself  does  in  the  other. 

The  Echinidea,  again,  are  frequently  quoted  as  ex- 
hibiting a  gradual  passage  from  a  more  generalized  to  a 
more  specialized  type,  seeing  that  the  elongated,  or  oval, 
Spatangoids  appear  after  the  spheroidal  Echinoids.  But 
here  it  might  be  argued,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the 
spheroidal  Echinoids,  in  reality,  depart  further  from  the 
general  plan  and  from  the  embryonic  form  than  the 
elongated  Spatangoids  do ;  and  that  the  peculiar  dental 
apparatus  and  the  pedicellarise  of  the  former  are  marks 
of  at  least  as  great  differentiation  as  the  petaloid  ambu- 
lacra and  semitse  of  the  latter. 

Once  more,  the  prevalence  of  Macrurous  before  Bra- 
chyurous  Podophthalmia  is,  apparently,  a  fair  piece  of 
evidence  in  favour  of  progressive  modification  in  the 
same  order  of  Crustacea ;  and  yet  the  case  will  not 
stand  much  sifting,  seeing  that  the  Macrurous  Podoph- 
thalmia depart  as  far  in  one  direction  from  the  common 
type  of  Podophthalmia,  or  from  any  embryonic  condition 


224  LJ.Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEIFS.  [x, 

of  the  Bracliyura,  as  the  Bracliyura  do  in  tlic  other ; 
and  that  the  middle  terms  between  Macrura  and 
Brachyura— the  Anomura — are  little  better  represented 
in  the  older  Mesozoic  rocks  than  the  Bracliyura  are. 

None  of  the  cases  of  progressive  modification  which 
are  cited  from  among  the  Invertebrata  appear  to  me  to 
have  a  foundation  less  open  to  criticism  than  these ;  and 
if  this  be  so,  no  careful  reasoner  v/ould,  I  think,  be  in- 
clined to  lay  very  great  stress  upon  them.  Among  the 
Vertebrata,  however,  there  are  a  few  examples  which 
appear  to  be  far  less  open  to  objection. 

It  is,  in  fact,  true  of  several  groups  of  Vertebrata 
which  have  lived  through  a  considerable  range  of  time, 
that  the  endoskeleton  (more  particularly  the  spinal 
column)  of  the  older  genera  presents  a  less  ossified,  and, 
so  far,  less  clifierentiated,  condition  than  that  of  the 
younger  genera.  Thus  the  Devonian  Ganoids,  though 
almost  all  members  of  the  same  sub-order  as  Polypterus, 
and  presenting  numerous  important  resemblances  to  the 
existing  genus,  which  possesses  biconcave  vertebra,  are, 
for  the  most  part,  wholly  devoid  of  ossified  vertebral 
centra.  The  Mesozoic  Lepidosteidae,  again,  have,  at  most, 
biconcave  vertebrse,  while  the  existing  Lepidosteus  has 
Salamandroid,  opisthocoelous,  vertebrae.  So,  none  of  the 
Palaeozoic  Sharks  have  shown  themselves  to  be  possessed 
of  ossified  vertebrae,  while  the  majority  of  modern 
Sharks  possess  such  vertebrae.  Again,  the  more  ancient 
Crocodilia  and  Lacertilia  have  vertebrae  with  the  articular 
facets  of  their  centra  flattened  or  biconcave,  while 
the  modern  members  of  the  same  group  have  them 
procoelous.  But  the  most  remarkable  examples  of 
progressive  modification  of  the  vertebral  column,  in  cor- 
respondence with  geological  age,  are  those  afibrded  by 
the  Pycnodonts  among  fish,  and  the  Labyrinthodonts 
auiong  Amphibia. 


i.]  PERSISTENT  TYPES  OF  LIFE.  225 

The  late  able  ichttiyologist  Heckel  pointed  out  tlie 
fact,  that,  while  the  Pycnodonts  never  possess  true  ver- 
tebral centra,  they  differ  in  the  degree  of  expansion  and 
extension  of  the  ends  of  the  bony  arches  of  the  vertebrce 
upon  the  sheath  of  the  notochord ;  the  Carboniferous 
forms  exhibiting  hardly  any  such  expansion,  while  the 
Mesozoic  genera  present  a  greater  and  greater  develop- 
ment, until,  in  the  Tertiary  forms,  the  expanded  ends 
become  suturally  united  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  false  ver- 
tebra. Hermann  von  Meyer,  again,  to  whose  luminous 
researches  we  are  indebted  for  our  present  large  know- 
ledge of  the  organization  of  the  older  Labyrinthodonts, 
has  proved  that  the  Carboniferous  Archegoscmrus  had 
very  imperfectly  developed  vertebral  centra,  while  the 
Triassic  Mast?donsaurus  had  the  same  parts  completely 
ossified.  ■"• 

The  regularity  and  evenness  of  the  dentition  of  the 
Anoijlotherium,  as  contrasted  with  that  of  existino* 
Artiodactyles,  and  the  assumed  nearer  approach  of  the 
dentition  of  certain  ancient  Carnivores  to  the  typical 
arrangement,  have  also  been  cited  as  exemplifications  of 
a  law  of  progressive  development,  but  I  know  of  no 
other  cases  based  on  positive  evidence  which  are  worthy 
of  particular  notice. 

"What  then  does  an  impartial  survey  of  the  positively 
ascertained  truths  of  palaeontology  testify  in  relation  to 
the  common  doctrines  of  progressive  modification,  which 
suppose  that  modification  to  have  taken  place  by  a  ne- 
cessary progress  from  more  to  less  embryonic  forms,  or 
from  more  to  less  generalized  types,  within  the  limits  of 
the  period  represented  by  the  fossiliferous  rocks  ? 

It  negatives  those  doctrines ;  for  it  either  shows  us  no 

_  1  As  this  Address  is  passing  through  the  press  (IVIarch  7,  1862),  evidence 
lies  before  me  of  the  existence  of  a  new  Labyrinthodont  {Pholidogaster), 
from  the  Edinburgh  coal-field,  with  well-ossified  vertebral  centra. 


226  l^T  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJfS.  [x/ 

evidence  of  any  sucli  modification,  or  demonstrates  it  to 
Lave  been  very  slight;  and  as  to  tlie  nature  of  that 
modification,  it  yields  no  evidence  whatsoever  that  the 
earlier  members  of  any  long-continued  group  were  more 
generalized  in  structure  than  the  later  ones.  To  a  certain 
extent,  indeed,  it  may  be  said  that  imperfect  ossification 
of  the  vertebral  column  is  an  embryonic  character; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  extremely  incor- 
rect to  suppose  that  the  vertebral  columns  of  the  older 
Vertebrata  are  in  any  sense  embryonic  in  their  whole 
structure. 

Obviously,  if  the  earliest  fossiliferous  rocks  now  known 
are  coeval  with  the  commencement  of  life,  and  if  their 
contents  give  us  any  just  conception  of  the  nature  and 
the  extent  of  the  earliest  fauna  and  flora,  the  insig- 
nificant amount  of  modification  which  can  be  demon- 
strated to  have  taken  place  in  any  one  group  of  animals, 
or  plants,  is  quite  incompatible  with  the  hypothesis  that 
all  living  forms  are  the  results  of  a  necessary  process  of 
progressive  development,  entirely  comprised  within  the 
time  represented  by  the  fossiliferous  rocks. 

Contrariwise,  any  admissible  hypthesis  of  progressive 
modification  must  be  compatible  with  persistence  with- 
out progression,  through  indefinite  periods.  And  should 
such  an  hypothesis  eventually  be  proved  to  be  true,  in 
the  only  way  in  which  it  can  be  demonstrated,  viz.  by 
observation  and  experiment  upon  the  existing  forms  of 
life,  the  conclusion  will  inevitably  present  itself,  that  the 
Palaeozoic,  Mesozoic,  and  Cainozoic  faunae  and  florae, 
taken  together,  bear  somewhat  the  same  proportion  to 
the  whole  series  of  living  beings  which  have  occupied 
this  globe,  as  the  existing^  fauna  and  flora  do  to  them. 

Such  are  the  results  of  palaeontology  as  they  appear, 
and  have  for  some  years  appeared,  to  the  mind  of  an 
inquirer  who  regards  that  study  simply  as  one  of  the 


X.]  PERSISTENT  TYPES  OF  LIFE.  227 

applications  of  tlie  great  biological  sciences,  and  who 
desires  to  see  it  placed  upon  the  same  sound  basis  as 
other  branches  of  physical  inquiry.  If  the  arguments 
which  have  been  brought  forward  are  valid,  probably  no 
one,  in  view  of  the  present  state  of  opinion,  will  be 
inclined  to  think  the  time  wasted  which  has  been  spent 
upon  their  elaboration. 


GEOLOGICAL  EEFOEM 

''A  great  reform  in  geological  speculation  seems  now  to  have  "become 
necessary." 

"It  is  quite  certain  that  a  great  mistake  has  been  made, — that  British 
l)opular  geology  at  the  present  time  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  principles 
ijf  Natural  Philosophy."^ 

In  reviewing^  tlie  course  of  geolooical  tlioiio^lit  clurinof 
the  past  year,  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  those 
matters  to  which  I  might  most  fitly  direct  yonr  attention 
in  the  Address  which  it  now  becomes  my  duty  to  deliver 
from  the  Presidential  Chair,  the  two  somewhat  alarming 
sentences  which  I  have  just  read,  and  which  occur  in 
an  able  and  interesting  essay  by  an  eminent  natural 
philosopher,  rose  into  such  prominence  before  my  mind 
that  they  eclipsed  everj^hing  else. 

It  surely  is  a  matter  of  paramount  importance  for  the 
British  geologists  (some  of  them  very  popular  geologists 
too)  here  in  solemn  annual  session  assembled,  to  inquire 
whether  the  severe  judgment  thus  passed  upon  them  by 
so  high  an  authority  as  Sir  William  Thomson  is  one  to 
which  they  must  plead  guilty  sans  phrase,  or  whether 
they  are  prepared  to  say  ''  not  guilty,"  and  appeal  for  a 

1  On  Geological  Time.     By  Sir  W.  Thomson,  LL.D.     Transactions  of  the 
Geological  Society  of  Glasgow,  vol.  iii. 


XI.]  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM,  229 

reversal  of  the  sentence  to  that  higher  court  of  educated 
scientific  opinion  to  which  we  are  all  amenable. 

As  your  attorney-general  for  the  time  being,  I  thought 
I  could  not  do  better  than  get  up  the  case  with  a  view 
of  advising  you.  It  is  true  that  the  charges  brought 
forward  by  the  other  side  involve  the  consideration  of 
matters  quite  foreign  to  the  pursuits  with  which  I  am 
ordinarily  occupied ;  but,  in  that  respect,  I  am  only  in 
the  position  which  is,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  occupied  by 
counsel,  who  nevertheless  contrive  to  gain  their  causes, 
maiuly  by  force  of  mother- wit  and  common  sense,  aided 
by  some  training  in  other  intellectual  exercises. 

Nerved  by  such  precedents,  I  proceed  to  put  my 
pleading  before  you. 

And  the  first  question  with  which  I  23ropose  to  deal 
is,  What  is  it  to  which  Sir  W.  Thomson  refers  when  he 
speaks  of  "geological  speculation''  and  "British  popular 
geology  "  ? 

I  find  three,  more  or  less  contradictory,  systems  of 
geological  thought,  each  of  which  might  fairly  enough 
claim  these  appellations,  standing  side  by  side  in  Britain. 
I  shall  call  one  of  them  Catasteophism,  another  Uni- 
FOEMiTARiANiSM,  the  third  Evolutionism  ;  and  I  shall 
try  briefly  to  sketch  the  characters  of  each,  that  you  may 
say  whether  the  classification  is,  or  is  not,  exhaustive. 

By  Catasteophism,  I  mican  any  form  of  geological 
speculation  which,  in  order  to  account  for  the  phsenomena 
of  geology,  supposes  the  operation  of  forces  different  in 
their  nature,  or  immeasurably  different  in  power,  from 
those  which  we  at  present  see  in  action  in  the  universe. 

The  Mosaic  cosmogony  is,  in  this  sense,  catastrophic, 
because  it  assumes  the  operation  of  extra-natural  power. 
The  doctrine  of  violent  upheavals,  dehddes,  and  cata- 
clysms in  general,  is  catastrophic,  so  far  as  it  assumes 
that  these  were  brought  about  by  causes  which  have 
11 


230  l^T  SER210NS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xi 

now  no  parallel.  There  was  a  time  when  catastrophism 
might,  pre-eminently,  have  claimed  the  title  of  "  British 
popular  geology ; "  and  assuredly  it  has  yet  many  ad- 
herents, and  reckons  among  its  supporters  some  of  the 
most  honoured  members  of  this  Society, 

By  Unifoemitarianism,  I  mean  especially,  the  teach- 
ing of  Hutton  and  of  Lyell. 

That  great  though  incomplete  work,  "  The  Theory  of 
the  Earth,  seems  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
contributions  to  geology  which  is  recorded  in  the  annals 
of  the  science.  So  far  as  the  not-living  world  is  con- 
cerned, uniformitarianism  lies  there,  not  only  in  germ, 
but  in  blossom  and  fruit. 

If  one  aslcs  how  it  is  that  Hutton  was  led  to  entertain 
views  so  far  in  advance  of  those  prevalent  in  his  time,  in 
some  respects ;  while,  in  others,  they  seem,  almost  curi- 
ously limited,  the  answer  appears  to  me  to  be  plain. 

Hutton  was  in  advance  of  the  geological  speculation 
of  his  time,  because,  in  the  first  place,  he  had  amassed  a 
vast  store  of  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  geology,  gathered 
by  personal  observation  in  travels  of  considerable  extent ; 
and  because,  in  the  second  place,  he  was  thoroughly 
trained  in  the  physical  and  chemical  science  of  his  day, 
and  thus  possessed,  as  much  as  any  one  in  his  time 
could  possess  it,  the  knowledge  which  is  requisite  for 
the  just  interpretation  of  geological  phsenomena,  and 
the  habit  of  thouQ-ht  which  fits  a  man  for  scientific 
inquiry. 

It  is  to  this  thorough  scientific  training,  that  I  ascribe 
Hutton  s  steady  and  persistent,  refusal  to  look  to  other 
causes  than  those  now  in  operation,  for  the  explanati(>n 
of  p^eological  phsenomena. 

Thus  he  writes  : — "  I  do  not  pretend,  as  he  [M.  de  Luc  J 
does  in  his  theory,  to  describe  the  beginning  of  things. 
1  take  things  such    as  I    find    them    at   present ;     and 


W.]  GWLOGICAL  REFORM.  231 

from  these  I  reason  v/itli  regard  to  tliat  which  must 
have  been."  ^ 

And  again  : — "A  theory  of  the  earth,  which  has  for 
object  truth,  can  have  no  retrospect  to  that  which  had 
preceded  the  present  order  of  the  world  ;  for  this  order 
alone  is  what  we  have  to  reason  upon ;  and  to  reason 
without  data  is  nothing  but  delusion.  A  theory,  there- 
fore, w^hich  is  limited  to  the  actual  constitution  of  this 
earth  cannot  be  allowed  to  proceed  one  step  beyond  the 
present  order  of  things."  ^ 

And  so  clear  is  he,  that  no  causes  beside  such  as  are 
now  in  operation  are  needed  to  account  for  the  character 
and  disposition  of  the  components  of  the  crust  of  the 
earth,  that  he  says,  broadly  and  boldly  : — "  .  .  .  There 
is  no  part  of  the  earth  which  has  not  had  the  same 
origin,  so  far  as  this  consists  in  that  earth  being  collected 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  afterwards  produced, 
as  land,  along  with  masses  of  melted  substances,  by  the 
operation  of  mineral  causes."  ^ 

But  other  influences  w^ere  at  work  upon  Hutton  beside 
those  of  a  mind  logical  by  Nature,  and  scientific  by 
sound  training ;  and  the  peculiar  turn  which  his  specu- 
lations took  seems  to  me  to  be  unintelligible,  unless  these 
be  taken  into  account.  The  arguments  of  the  French 
astronomers  and  mathematicians,  wdiich,  at  the  end  of 
the  last  century,  were  held  to  demonstrate  the  existence 
of  a  compensating  arrangement  among  the  celestial 
bodies,  whereby  all  perturbations  eventually  reduced 
themselves  to  oscillations  on  each  side  of  a  mean  po- 
sition, and  the  stability  of  the  solar  system  was  secured, 
had  evidently  taken  stroug  hold  of  Hutton's  mind. 

In  those  oddly  constructed  periods  which  seem  to  have 
prejudiced  many  persons  against  reading  his  works,  but 

1  The  Theory  of  the  Er.rth,  vol.  1  p.  173,  note.  Ibid.  p.  281 

8  Ibid,  p.  371. 


232  Ur  SERMONS,  ABDRHSSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi 

wMcli  are  full  of  that  peculiar,  if  unattractive,  eloquence 
wliicli  flovv^s  from  mastery  of  the  subject,  Hutton  says  : — > 

"  We  have  now  got  to  the  end  of  our  reasoning ,  we 
have  no  data  further  to  conclude  immediately  from  that 
which  actually  is.  But  we  have  got  enough ;  we  have 
the  satisfaction  to  find,  that  in  Nature  there  is  wisdom, 
system,  and  consistency.  For  having,  in  the  natural 
history  of  this  earth,  seen  a  succession  of  worlds,  we 
may  from  this  conclude  that  there  is  a  system  in  Nature  ; 
in  like  manner  as,  from  seeing  revolutions  of  the  planets, 
it  is  concluded,  that  there  is  a  system  by  which  they  are 
intended  to  continue  those  revolutions.  But  if  the  sue 
cession  of  worlds  is  established  in  the  system  of  Nature, 
it  is  in  vain  to  look  for  anything  higher  in  the  origin  of 
the  earth.  The  result,  therefore,  of  this  physical  inquiry 
is,  that  we  find  no  vestige  of  a  beginning, — no  prospect 
of  an  end."  ^ 

Yet  another  influence  worked  strongly  upon  Hutton. 
Like  most  philosophers  of  his  age,  he  coquetted  with 
those  final  causes  which  have  been  named  barren  virgins, 
but  which  might  be  more  fitly  termed  the  hetairw  of 
philosophy,  so  constantly  have  they  led  men  astray. 
The  final  cause  of  the  existence  of  the  world  is,  for 
Hutton,  the  production  of  life  and  intelligence. 

"  We  have  now  considered  the  globe  of  this  earth 
as  a  machine,  constructed  upon  chemical  as  well  as 
mechanical  principles,  by  which  its  different  parts  are  all 
adapted,  in  form,  in  quality,  and  in  quantity,  to  a  certain 
end  ;  an  end  attained  v/ith  certainty  or  success ;  and  an 
end  from  which  we  may  perceive  wisdom,  in  contem- 
plating the  means  employed. 

"  But  is  this  world  to  be  considered  thus  merely  as  a 
machine,  to  last  no  longer  than  its  parts  retain  their 
present  position,  their  proper  forms  and  qualities?     Ot 

»  The  Tlieoiy  of  tlie  Earth,  vol.  i  p.  £00. 


Xi.J  GEOLOGICAL  RILFOR^L  233 

may  it  not  be  also  considered  as  an  organized  body  ? 
such  a?!  has  a  constitution  in  which  the  necessary  decay 
of  the  macliine  is  naturally  repaired,  in  the  exertion  of 
those  productive  powers  by  which  it  had  been  formed. 

"  This  is  the  view  in  which  w^e  are  now  to  examine 
the  globe  ;  to  see  if  there  be,  in  the  constitution  of  this 
world,  a  reproductive  operation,  by  w^hich  a  ruined  con* 
stitution  may  be  again  repaired,  and  a  duration  or 
stability  thus  procured  to  the  machine,  considered  as  a 
world  sustaining  plants  and  animals."  ^ 

Kirwan,  and  the  other  Philistines  of  the  day,  accused 
Hutton  of  declaring  that  his  theory  implied  that  the 
world  never  had  a  beginning,  and  never  diifered  in 
condition  from  its  present  state.  Nothing  could  be  more 
grossly  unjust,  as  he  expressly  guards  himself  against 
any  such  conclusion  in  the  following  terms : — 

"But  in  thus  tracing  back  the  natural  operations 
which  have  succeeded  each  other,  and  mark  to  us  the 
course  of  time  past,  w^e  come  to  a  period  in  which  we 
cannot  see  any  farther.  This,  however,  is  not  the 
beginning  of  the  operations  which  proceed  in  time  and 
according  to  the  wise  economy  of  this  world ;  nor  is  it 
the  establishing  of  that  which,  in  the  course  of  time, 
had  no  beginning ;  it  is  only  the  limit  of  our  retrospec- 
tive view  of  those  operations  which  have  come  to  pass 
in  time,  and  have  been  conducted  by  supreme  intel- 
ligence." ^ 

I  have  spoken  of  Uniformitarianism  as  the  doctrine  of 
Hutton  and  of  Lycll.  If  I  have  quoted  the  older  writer 
rather  than  the  newer,  it  is  because  his  works  are  little 
known,  and  his  claims  on  our  veneration  too  frequently 
forgotten,  not  because  I  desire  to  dim  the  fame  of  his 
eminent  successor.  Few  of  the  present  generation  of  geo- 
logists have  read  Play  fair  s  "  Illustrations,"  fewer  still  the 

»  The  Theory  of  tlie  Earth,  vol.  i.  pp.  16,  17.  ^  Ibid.  p.  223. 


234  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xl 

original  *'  Theory  of  tlie  Eartla ; ''  the  more  is  the  pity  ; 
but '  which  of  us  has  not  thumbed  every  page  of  the 
"  Principles  of  Geology  "  ?  I  think  that  he  wlio  writes 
fairly  the  history  of  his  own  progress  in  geological 
thought,  will  not  be  able  to  separate  his  debt  to  Hutton 
from  his  obligations  to  Lyell ;  and  the  history  of  the 
progress  of  individual  geologists  is  the  history  of  geology. 

No  one  can  doubt  that  the  influence  of  uniformitarian 
views  has  been  enormous,  and,  in  the  main,  most 
beneficial  and  favourable  to  the  progress  of  sound 
geology. 

Nor  can  it  be  questioned  that  Uniformitarianism  has 
even  a  stronger  title  than  Catas trophism  to  call  itself  the 
geological  speculation  of  Britain,  or,  if  you  will,  British 
popular  geology.  For  it  is  eminently  a  British  doctrine, 
and  has  even  now  made  comparatively  little  progress 
on  the  continent  of  Europe.  Nevertheless  it  seems  to 
me  to  be  open  to  serious  criticism  upon  one  of  its 
aspects. 

I  have  shown  how  unjust  was  the  insinuation  that 
Hutton  denied  a  beginning  to  the  world.  But  it  would 
not  be  unjust  to  say  that  he  persistently,  in  practice, 
shut  his  eyes  to  the  existence  of  that  prior  and  different 
state  of  things  which,  in  theory,  he  admitted  ;  and,  in 
this  aversion  to  look  beyond  the  veil  of  stratified  rocks, 
Lyell  follows  him. 

Hutton  and  Lyell  alike  agree  in  their  indisposition 
to  carry  their  speculations  a  step  beyond  the  period 
recorded  in  the  most*  ancient  strata  now  open  to  obser- 
vation in  the  crust  of  the  earth.  This  is,  for  Hutton, 
"  the  point  in  which  we  cannot  see  any  farther ;  '^  while 
Lyell  tells  us, — ■ 

"  The  astronomer  may  find  good  reasons  for  ascribing 
the  earth's  form  to  the  original  fluidity  of  the  mass,  in 
times  long  antecedent  to  the  first  introduction  of  living 


XL]  GEOLOGICAL  REFOiOL  235 

beings  into  tlie  planet ;  but  tlie  geologist  must  be  content 
to  reofard  the  earliest  monuments  which  it  is  his  task  to 
interpret,  as  belonging  to  a  period  when  the  crust  had 
already  acquired  great  solidity  and  thickness,  probably 
as  great  as  it  now  possesses,  and  when  volcanic  rocks, 
aot  essentially  differing  from  those  no"^  produced,  were 
formed  from  time  to  time,  the  intensity  of  volcanic  heat 
being  neither  greater  nor  less  than  it  is  now/^  ^ 

And  again,  "  As  geologists,  we  learn  that  it  is  not  only 
the  present  condition  of  the  globe  which  has  been  suited 
to  the  accommodation  of  myriads  of  living  creatures,  but 
that  many  former  states  also  have  been  adapted  to  the 
organization  and  habits  of  prior  races  of  beings.  The 
disposition  of  the  seas,  continents  and  islands,  and  the 
climates,  have  varied ;  the  species  likewise  have  been 
changed ;  and  yet  they  have  all  been  so  modelled,  on 
types  analogous  to  those  of  existing  plants  and  animals, 
as  to  indicate,  throughout,  a  perfect  harmony  of  design 
and  unity  of  purpose.  To  assume  that  the  evidence  of 
the  beginning,  or  end,  of  so  vast  a  scheme  lies  within 
the  reach  of  our  philosophical  inquiries,  or  even  of  our 
speculations,  appears  to  be  inconsistent  with  a  just 
estimate  of  the  relations  which  subsist  between  the  finite 
powers  of  man  and  the  attributes  of  an  infinite  and 
eternal  Being."  ^ 

The  limitations  implied  in  these  passages  appear  to 
me  to  constitute  the  weakness  and  the  logical  defect  of 
uniformitarianism.  No  one  will  impute  blame  to  Huttoii 
that,  in  face  of  the  imperfect  condition,  in  his  clay,  of 
those  physical  sciences  which  furnish  the  keys  to  the 
riddles  of  geology,  he  should  have  thought  it  practical 
wisdom  to  limit  his  theory  to  an  attempt  to  account  for 
**  the  present  order  of  things  ; "  but  I  am  at  a  loss  to  com- 
prehend why,  for  all  time,  the  geologist  must  be  content 

*  Principles  of  Geology,  vol.  ii.  p.  211.  *  Ibid.  p.  613. 


236  LAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xi 

to  regard  the  oldest  fossiliferous  rocks  as  tlie  ultima 
Thule  of  Ms  science ;  or  what  there  is  inconsistent  with 
the  relations  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite  mind,  in 
the  assumption,  that  we  may  discern  somewhat  of  the 
beginning,  or  of  the  end,  of  this  speck  in  space  we  call 
our  earth.  The  finite  mind  is  certainly  competent  to 
trace  out  the  development  of  the  fowl  within  the  egg ; 
and  I  know  not  on  what  ground  it  should  find  more 
difficulty  in  unravelling  the  complexities  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  earth.  In  fact,  as  Kant  has  well  remarked,  ^ 
the  cosmical  process  is  really  simpler  than  the  biological. 

This  attempt  to  limit,  at  a  particular  point,  the  progress 
of  inductive  and  deductive  reasoning  from  the  thing-s 
wdiich  are,  to  those  which  were — this  faithlessness  to  its 
own  logic,  seems  to  me  to  have  cost  Uniformitarianism 
the  place,  as  the  permanent  form  of  geological  specula- 
tion, which  it  might  otherwise  have  held. 

It  remains  that  I  should  put  before  you  what  I 
understand  to  be  the  third  phase  of  geological  specula- 
tion— namely,  Evolutionism. 

I  shall  not  make  what  I  have  to  say  on  this  head 
clear,  unless  I  diverge,  or  seem  to  diverge,  for  a  while, 
from  the  direct  path  of  my  discourse,  so  far  as  to  explain 
what  I  take  to  be  the  scope  of  geology  itself.  I  conceive 
geology  to  be  the  history  of  the  earth,  in  precisely  the 
same  sense  as  biology  is  the  history  of  living  beings ; 
and  I  trust  you  will  not  think  that  I  am  overpowered  by 
the  influence  of  a  dominant  pursuit  if  I  say  that  I  trace 
a  close  analogy  between  these  two  histories. 

If  I  study  a  living  being,  under  what  heads  does  the 

^  "  Man  darf  es  sicli  also  nicht  befremclen  lassen,  wenn  ich  mich  unterstelie 
zLi  sagen,  dass  eher  die  Bildimg  aller  HimmelskoriDer,  die  Ursache  ihrer 
Bevvegungen,  kurz  der  Ursprung  der  ganzen  gegenwartigen  Verfassung  des 
VVeltbaues  werden  konnen  eingesehen  werden,  ehe  die  Erzeugimg  eines 
eiazigen  Krautes  oder  einer  Eaupe  aus  meclianisclien  Griinden,  deiitlich  und 
ToUstctndig  kiind  verden  wird." — Kant's  Sdmmtliche  Werke,  Bd.  I.  p.  220, 


Xh]  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM.  237 

knowledge  I  obtain  fall  1  1  can  learn  its  structure,  or 
wliat  we  call  its  Anatomy  ;  and  its  Development,  or 
the  series  of  changes  wliicli  it  passes  through,  to  acquire 
its  complete  structure.  Then  I  find  that  the  living 
being  has  certain  pov^ers  resulting  from  its  own  acti- 
vities, and  the  interaction  of  these  with  the  activities  of 
other  things — the  knovdedge  of  which  is  Physiology. 
Beyond  this  the  living  being  has  a  position  in  space  and 
time,  wdiich  is  its  Disteibxjtion.  All  these  form  the 
body  of  ascertainable  facts  which  constitute  the  status 
quo  of  the  living  creature.  But  these  facts  have  their 
causes ;  and  the  ascertainment  of  these  causes  is  the 
doctrine  of  j^tiology. 

If  we  consider  what  is  knowable  about  the  earth,  v/e 
shall  find  that  such  earth-knowledge — if  I  may  so  trans- 
late the  word  geology — falls  into  the  same  categories. 

What  is  termed  stratigraphical  geology  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  the  anatomy  of  the  earth ;  and  the  history 
of  the  succession  of  the  formations  is  the  history  of  a 
succession  of  such  anatomies,  or  corresponds  with  deve- 
lopment, as  distinct  from  generation. 

The  internal  heat  of  the.  earth,  the  elevation  and 
depression  of  its  crust,  its  belchings  forth  of  vapours, 
ashes,  and  lava,  are  its  activities,  in  as  strict  a  sense,  as  are 
warmth  and  the  movements  and  products  of  respiration 
the  activities  of  an  animal.  The  phgenomena  of  the 
seasons,  of  the  trade  winds,  of  the  Gulf-stream,  are  as 
much  the  results  of  the  reaction  between  these  inner 
activities  and  outward  forces,  as  are  the  budding  of  the 
leaves  in  sprino;  and  their  falling^  in  autumn  the  efiects 
of  the  interaction  between  the  organization  of  a  plant 
and  the  solar  light  and  heat.  And,  as  the  study  of  the 
activities  of  the  living  being  is  called  its  physiology,  so 
are  these  phaenomena  the  subject-matter  of  an  analogous 
telluric   physiology,    to   which  we   sometimes   give   the 


238  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEJFS,  [xi 

name  of  meteorology,  sometimes  that  of  physical  geo- 
graphy, sometimes  that  of  geology.  Again,  the  earth 
has  a  place  in  space  and  in  time,  and  relations  to  other 
bodies  in  both  these  respects,  which  constitute  its  distri- 
bution. This  subject  is  usually  left  to  the  astronomer; 
but  a  knowledge  of  its  broad  outlines  seems  to  me  to  be 
an  essential  constituent  of  the  stock  of  geological  ideas. 

All  that  can  be  ascertained  concerning  the  structure, 
succession  of  conditions,  actions,  and  position  in  space  of 
the  earth,  is  the  matter  of  fact  of  its  natural  history. 
But,  as  in  biology,  there  remains  the  matter  of  reasoning 
from  these  facts  to  their  causes,  which  is  just  as  much 
science  as  the  other,  and  indeed  m^ore ;  and  this  consti- 
tutes geological  aetiology. 

Having  regard  to  this  general  scheme  of  geological 
knowledge  and  thought,  it  is  obvious  that  geological 
speculation  may  be,  so  to  speak,  anatomical  and  develop- 
mental speculation,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  points  of  strati- 
graphical  arrangement  which  are  out  of  reach  of  direct 
observation ;  or,  it  may  be  physiological  speculation,  so 
far  as  it  relates  to  undetermined  problems  relative  to  the 
activities  of  the  earth  ;  or,  it  may  be  distributional  specu- 
lation, if  it  deals  with  modifications  of  the  earth's  place 
in  space ;  or,  finally,  it  will  be  setiological  speculation,  if 
it  attempts  to  deduce  the  history  of  the  world,  as  a 
whole,  from  the  known  properties  of  the  matter  of  the 
earth,  in  the  conditions  in  which  the  earth  has  been  placed. 
For  the  purposes  of  the  present  discourse  I  may  take 
this  last  to  be  what  is  meant  by  ''  geological  speculation." 
Now  uniformitarianism,  as  we  have  seen,  tends  to 
ignore  geological  speculation  in  this  sense  altogether. 

The  one  point  the  catastrophists  and  the  uniformi- 
tarians  agreed  upon,  when  this  Society  was  founded,  was 
to  ignore  it.  And  you  will  find,  if  you  look  back  into 
our  records,  that  our  revered  fathers  in  geology  plumed 


el]  geological  reform.  239 

tliemselves  a  good  deal  upon  tlie  practical  sense  and 
\Yisdom  of  this  proceeding.  As  a  temporary  measure,  I 
do  not  presume  to  challenge  its  wisdom ;  but  in  all 
organized  bodies  temporary  changes  are  apt  to  produce 
permanent  effects ;  and  as  time  has  slipped  by,  altering 
all  the  conditions  which  may  have  made  such  mortifica- 
tion of  the  scientific  flesh  desirable,  I  think  the  effect  of 
the  stream  of  cold  water  which  has  steadily  flowed  over 
geological  speculation  within  these  Avails  has  been  of 
doubtful  beneficence. 

The  sort  of  geological  speculation  to  which  I  am  now 
referring  (geological  setiology,  in  short)  was  created,  as 
a  science,  by  that  famous  philosopher  Immanuel  Kant, 
when,  in  1755,  he  wrote  his  "  General  Natural  History 
and  Theory  of  the  Celestial  Bodies  ;  or  an  Attempt  to 
account  for  the  Constitution  and  the  Mechanical  Origin 
of  the  Universe  upon  Newtonian  principles."^ 

In  this  very  remarkable  but  seemingly  little-known 
treatise,^  Kant  expounds  a  complete  cosmogony,  in  the 
shape  of  a  theory  of  the  causes  which  have  led  to  the  deve- 
lopment of  the  universe  from  diffused  atoms  of  matter 
endowed  w^ith  simple  attractive  and  re23ulsive  forces. 

"  Give  me  matter,'^  says  Kant,  "  and  I  will  build  the 
world;"  and  he  proceeds  to  deduce  from  the  simple 
data  from  which  he  starts,  a  doctrine  in  all  essential  re- 
spects similar  to  the  w^ell-known  "Nebular  Hypothesis" 
of  Laplace.^  He  accounts  for  the  relation  of  the  masses 
and  the  densities  of  the  planets  to  their  distances  from 
the  sun,  for  the  eccentricities  of  their  orbits,  for  their 
rotations,  for  their  satellites,  for  the  general  agreement 

^  Grant  ("  History  of  Physical  Astronomy,"  p.  574)  makes  but  the  briefest 
lefer^mce  to  Kant. 

2  "  Allgemeine  Naturgeschichte  und  Theorie  cles  Hiinmels  ;  ocler  Versuch 
7on  der  Verfassung  und  dem  mechanischen  Ursprunge  des  ganzen  Weltge- 
biiudes  nach  Newton'schen  Grundsatzen  abgehandelt." — Kant's  Sdrnmtlicha 
Werke,  Bd.  i,  p.  207. 

*  Systeme  du  Monde,  tome  ii.  chap.  6. 


240  I^^^  SERMONS,  ADDBJESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi 

in  tlie  direction  of  rotation  among  the  celestial  bodies, 
for  Saturn's  ring,  and  for  tlie  zodiacal  liglit.  He  finds 
in  each  system  of  worlds,  indications  that  the  attractive 
force  of  the  central  mass  will  eventually  destroy  its  orga- 
nization, by  concentrating  upon  itself  the  matter  of  the 
wdiole  system  ;  but,  as  the  result  of  this  concentration, 
he  argues  for  the  development  of  an  amount  of  heat 
which  will  dissipate  the  mass  once  more  into  a  molecular 
chaos  such  as  that  in  which  it  began. 

Kant  pictures  to  himself  the  universe  as  once  an 
infinite  expansion  of  formless  and  difiused  matter.  At 
one  point  of  this  he  supposes  a  single  centre  of  attraction 
set  up  ;  and,  by  strict  deductions  from  admitted  dynamical 
principles,  shows  how  this  must  result  in  the  development 
of  a  prodigious  central  body,  surrounded  by  systems  of 
solar  and  planetary  worlds  in  all  stages  of  development. 
In  vivid  language  he  depicts  the  great  world- maelstrom, 
widening  the  margins  of  its  prodigious  eddy  in  the  slow 
progress  of  millions  of  ages,  gradually  reclaiming  more 
and  more  of  the  molecular  waste,  and  converting  chaos 
into  cosmos.  But  what  is  gained  at  the  margin  is  lost 
in  the  centre ;  the  attractions  of  the  central  systems 
bring  their  constituents  together,  which  then,  by  the  heat 
evolved,  are  converted  once  more  into  molecular  chaos. 
Thus  the  vv^orlds  that  are,  lie  between  the  ruins  of  the 
worlds  that  have  been  and  the  chaotic  materials  of  the 
worlds  that  shall  be  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  waste  and 
destruction.  Cosmos  is  extending  his  borders  at  the 
expense  of  Chaos. 

Kant's  further  application  of  his  views  to  the  earth 
itself  is  to  be  found  in  his  "  Treatise  on  Physical  Geo- 
graphy^'^  (a  term  under  which  the  then  unknovvai  science 
of  geology  was  included),  a  subject  which  he  had  studied 
v\'ith  very  great  care  and  on  which  he  lectured  for  many 

^  Kant's  "  Samnitliclie  Werke,"  Ed.  viii.  p.  145. 


II.J  GEOLOGICAL  REFOIUI.  241 

rears.  The  foiirtli  section  of  the  first  part  of  this 
Treatise  is  called  "  History  of  the  great  Changes  which 
the  Earth  has  formerly  undergone  and  is  still  undergoing/' 
and  is,  in  fact,  a  brief  and  pregnant  essay  upon  the  prin- 
ciples of  geology.  Kant  gives  an  account  first  *'of  the 
gradual  changes  which  are  now  taking  place"  under 
the  heads  of  such  as  are  caused  by  earthquakes,  such 
as  are  brought  about  by  rain  and  rivers,  such  as  ars 
effected  by  the  sea,  such  as  are  produced  by  windo 
and  frost;  and,  finally,  such  as  result  from  the  opera- 
tions of  man. 

The  second  part  is  devoted  to  the  "  Memorials  of  the 
Changes  which  the  Earth  has  undergone  in  remote  an- 
tiquity.'' These  are  enumerated  as : — A.  Proofs  that 
the  sea  formerly  covered  the  whole  earth.  B.  Proofs 
that  the  sea  has  often  been  changed  into  dry  land  and 
then  again  into  sea.  C.  A  discussion  of  the  various 
theories  of  the  earth  put  forward  by  Scheuchzer,  Moro, 
Bonnet,  Woodward,  White,  Leibnitz,  Linnaeus,  and 
Buffon. 

The  third  part  contains  an  "Attempt  to  give  a  sound 
explanation  of  the  ancient  history  of  the  earth.'' 

I  suppose  that  it  would  be  very  easy  to  pick  holes  in 
the  details  of  Kant's  speculations,  whether  cosmological, 
or  specially  telluric,  in  their  application.  But,  for  all 
that,  he  seems  to  me  to  have  been  the  first  person  to 
frame  a  complete  system  of  geological  speculation  by 
foundino;  the  doctrine  of  evolution. 

AYith  as  much  truth  as  Hut  ton,  Kant  could  say,  "I 
take  things  just  as  I  find  them  at  present,  and,  from 
these,  I  reason  with  regard  to  that  which  must  have 
been."  Like  Hutton,  he  is  never  tired  of  pointing 
out  that  "  in  Nature  there  is  wisdom,  system,  and  con- 
sistency." And,  as  in  these  great  principles,  so  in  believ- 
ing that  the   cosmos  has  a  reproductive  operation  *''by 


242  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi. 

vvhicli  a  ruined  constitution  may  be  repaired/'  he  for- 
stalls  Hutton  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  Kant  is  true  to 
science.  He  knows  no  bounds  to  geological  speculation 
but  those  of  the  intellect.  He  reasons  back  to  a  begin- 
ning of  the  present  state  of  things ;  he  admits  the  possi- 
bility of  an  end. 

I  have  said  that  the  three  schools  of  geological  specu- 
lation which  I  have  termed  Catastrophism,  Uniformi- 
tarianism,  and  Evolutionism  are  commonly  supposed  to 
be  antagonistic  to  one  another  ;  and  I  presume  it  will 
have  become  obvious  that,  in  my  belief,  the  last  is 
destined  to  swallow  up  the  other  two.  But  it  is  proper 
to  remark  that  each  of  the  latter  has  kept  alive  the  tra 
dition  of  precious  truths. 

Catasteophism  has  insisted  upon  the  existence  of  a 
practically  unlimited  bank  of  force,  on  which  the  theorist 
miofht  draw ;  and  it  has  cherished  the  idea  of  the  de- 
velopment  of  the  earth  from  a  state  in  which  its  form, 
and  the  forces  which  it  exerted,  were  very  different  from 
those  we  now  know.  That  such  difference  of  form  and 
power  once  existed  is  a  necessa^ry  part  of  the  doctrine  of 
evolution. 

UxiFOEMiTAEiANiSM,  on  the  otlicr  hand,  has  with 
equal  justice  insisted  upon  a  practically  unlimited  bank 
of  time,  ready  to  discount  any  quantity  of  hypothetical 
paper.  It  has  kept  before  our  eyes  the  power  of  the 
infinitely  little,  time  being  granted,  and  has  compelled  us 
to  exhaust  known  causes,  before  flying  to  the  unknown. 

To  my  mind  there  appears  to  be  no  sort  of  necessary 
theoretical  antagonism  between  Catastrophism  and  Uni- 
formitarianism.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  very  conceivable 
that  catastrophes  may  be  part  and  parcel  of  uniformity. 
Let  me  illustrate  rr.y  case  by  analogy.  The  working  of 
a  clock  is  a  model  of  uniform  action ;  good  time-keeping 
means  uniformity  of  action.     But   the  striking  of  the 


I.J  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM,  243 

clock  is  essentially  a  catastroplie ;  the  hammer  might  be 
made  to  blow  up  a  barrel  of  gunpowder,  or  turn  on  a 
deluge  of  water ;  and,  by  proper  arrangement,  the  clock, 
instead  of  marking  the  hours,  might  strike  at  all  sorts  of 
irregular  periods,  never  twice  alike,  in  the  intervals, 
force,  or  number  of  its  blows.  Nevertheless,  all  these 
irregular,  and  apparently  lawless,  catastrophes  would  be 
the  result  of  an  absolutely  uniformitarian  action ;  and 
we  might  have  two  schools  of  clock-theorists,  one 
studying  the  hammer  and  the  other  the  pendulum. 

Still  less  is  there  any  necessary  antagonism  between 
either  of  these  doctrines  and  that  of  Evolution,  which 
embraces  all  that  is  sound  in  both  Catastrophism  and 
Uniformitarianism,  while  it  rejects  the  arbitrary  assump- 
tions of  the  one  and  the,  as  arbitrary,  limitations  of  the 
other.  Nor  is  the  value  of  the  doctrine  of  Evolution  to  the 
philosophic  thinker  diminished  by  the  fact  that  it  applies 
tlie  same  method  to  the  living  and  the  not-living  world  ; 
and  embraces,  in  one  stupendous  analogy,  the  growth 
of  a  solar  system  from  molecular  chaos,  the  shaping 
of  the  earth  from  the  nebulous  cubhood  of  its  youth, 
through  innumerable  changes  and  immeasurable  ages, 
to  its  present  form;  and  the  development  of  a  living 
being  from  the  shapeless  mass  of  protoplasm  we  term  a 
germ. 

I  do  not  know  whether  Evolutionism  can  claim  that 
amount  of  currency  which  would  entitle  it  to  be  called 
British  popular  geology ;  but,  more  or  less  vaguely,  it  is 
assuredly  present  in  the  minds  of  most  geologists. 

Such  being  the  three  phases  of  geological  speculation, 
we  are  now  in  position  to  inquire  which  of  these  it  is 
that  Sir  William  Thomson  calls  upon  us  to  reform  in 
the  passages  which  I  have  cited. 

It   is    obviously   Uniformitarianism    which    the    dis- 


244  ^^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi 

tinguished  physicist  takes  to  be  tlie  representative  of 
geological  speculation  in  general.  And  thus  a  first 
issue  is  raised,  inasmuch,  as  many  persons  (and  those 
not  the  least  thoughtful  among  the  younger  geologists) 
do  not  accept  strict  Uniformitarianism  as  the  final  form 
of  geological  speculation,  We  should  say,  if  Ilutton 
and  Playfa.ir  declare  the  course  of  the  world  to  have 
been  always  the  same,  point  out  the  fallacy  by  all  means  ; 
but,  in  so  doing,  do  not  im_agine  that  you  are  proving 
modern  geology  to  be  in  opposition  to  natural  phi- 
losophy. I  do  not  suppose  that,  at  the  present  day 
any  geologist  would  be  found  to  maintain  absolute 
Uniformitarianism,  to  deny  that  the  rapidity  of  the 
rotation  of  the  earth  may  be  diminishmg,  that  the  sun 
may  be  waxing  dim,  or  that  the  earth  itself  "may  be 
cooling.  Most  of  us,  I  suspect,  are  Gallios,  "  who  care 
for  none  of  these  things,'''  being  of  opinion  that,  true 
or  fictitious,  they  have  made  no  practical  difference  to 
the  earth,  during  the  period  of  which  a  record  is  pre- 
served in  stratified  deposits. 

The  accusation  that  we  have  been  running  counter  to 
the  jyrinGi'plQS  of  natural  philosophy,  therefore,  is  devoid 
of  foundation.  The  only  question  which  can  arise  is 
whether  we  have,  or  have  not,  been  tacitly  making 
assumptions  which  are  in  opposition  to  certain  con- 
clusions which  may  be  drawn  from  those  principles. 
And  this  question  subdivides  itself  into  two  : — ^the  first, 
are  we  really  contravening  such  conclusions  ?  the  second, 
if  we  are,  are  those  conclusions  so  firmly  based  that  we 
may  not  contravene  them  ?  I  reply  in  the  negative  to 
both  these  questions,  and  I  will  give  you  my  reasons 
for  so  doing.  Sir  AVilliam  Thomson  believes  that  he 
is  able  to  prove,  by  physical  reasonings,  "that  the 
existing  state  of  things  on  the  earth,  life  on  the  earth 
— all   geological   history   showing   continuity   of   life — ' 


£1.]  GWLOGICAl  REFORM.  245 

must  be  limited  within  some  such  period  of  time  as  one 
hundred  million  years''  (loc.  cit.  p.  25). 

The  first  inquiry  which  arises  plainly  is,  has  it  ever 
been  denied  that  this  period  Quay  he  enough  for  the 
purposes  of  geology  ? 

The  discussion  of  this  question  is  greatly  embarrassed 
by  the  vagueness  with  which  the  assumed  limit  is,  I. 
will  not  say  defined,  but  indicated, — "some  such  period 
of  past  time  as  one  hundred  million  years.''  Now 
does  this  mean  that  it  may  have  been  two,  or  three,  or 
four  hundred  million  years  \  Because  this  really  makes 
all  the  difference.-^ 

I  presume  that  100,000  feet  may  be  taken  as  a  full 
allowance  for  the  total  thickness  of  stratified  rocks  con- 
taining traces  of  life  ;  100,000  divided  by  100,000,000 
=0'001.  Consequently,  the  deposit  of  100,000  feet  of 
stratified  rock  in  100,000,000  years  means  that  the 
deposit  has  taken  place  at  the  rate  of  t^od  ^f  ^  foot,  or, 
say,  -^  of  an  inch,  per  annum. 

Well,  I  do  not  know  that  any  one  is  prepared  to  main- 
tain that,  even  making  all  needful  allowances,  the 
stratified  rocks  may  not  have  been  formed,  on  the 
average,  at  the  rate  of  sV  of  an  inch  per  annum. 
I  suppose  that  if  such  could  be  shown  to  be  the 
limit  of  world-growth,  we  could  put  up  with  the 
allowance  without  feeling  that  our  speculations  had 
undergone  any  revolution.  And  perhaps,  after  all,  the 
qualifying  phrase  ^' some  such  period"  may  not  neces- 
sitate the  assumption  of  more  than  xie-  or  2x9-  or  -arsr  of 
an  inch  of  deposit  per  year,  which,  of  course,  would 
give  us  still  more  ease  and  comfort. 

But,  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is  biology,  and  not  geology, 

^  Sir  William  Thomson  implies  (loc.  cit.  p.  16),  that  the  precise  tinie  is  oi 
no  consequence  :  "  the  principle  is  the  same ;"  but,  as  the  principle  is 
admitted,  the  whole  discussion  turns  on  its  practical  results. 


246  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi. 

wMcli  asks  for  so  much,  time — that  the  succession  of 
life  demands  vast  intervals ;  but  this  appears  to  me  to 
be  reasoning  in  a  circle.  Biology  takes  her  time  from 
geology.  The  only  reason  we  have  for  believing  in  the 
slow  rate  of  the  cliang^e  in  living^  forms  is  the  fact  that 
they  persist  through  a  series  of  deposits  which,  geology 
informs  us,  have  taken  a  long  while  to  make.  If  the 
geological  clock  is  wrong,  all  the  naturalist  will  have  to 
do  is  to  modify  his  notions  of  the  rapidity  of  change 
accordingly.  And  I  venture  to  point  out  that,  when  we 
are  told  that  the  limitation  bi  the  period  during  which 
living  beings  have  inhabited  this  planet  to  one,  tv>7-o,  or 
three  hundred  million  years  requires  a  complete  revolu- 
tion in  geological  speculation,  the  onus  prohandi  rests 
on  the  maker  of  the  assertion,  who  brings  forward  not 
a  shadow  of  evidence  in  its  support. 

Thus,  if  we  accept  the  limitation  of  time  placed  before 
us  by  Sir  W.  Thomson,  it  is  not  obvious,  on  the  face 
of  the  matter,  that  we  shall  have  to  alter,  or  reform, 
our  ways  in  any  appreciable  degree  ;  and  we  naay  there- 
fore proceed  with  much  calmness,  a.nd  indeed  much 
indifference,  as  to  the  result,  to  inquire  whether  that 
limitation  is  justified  by  the  arguments  employed  in  its 
support. 

These  arguments  are  three  in  number  : — 

I.  The  first  is  based  upon  the  undoubted  fact  that  the 
tides  tend  to  retard  the  rate  of  the  earth's  rotation  upon 
its  axis.  That  this  must  be  so  is  obvious,  if  one  con- 
siders, roughly,  that  the  tides  result  from  the  pull  which 
the  sun  and  the  moon  exert  upon  the  sea,  causing  it  to 
act  as  a  sort  of  break  upon  the  rotating  solid  earth. 

Kant,  who  was  by  no  means  a  mere  "  abstract  philo- 
sopher,'' but  a  good  mathematician  and  well  versed  in 
the  physicjd  science  of  his  time,  not  only  proved  this  in 
an  es&ay  of  exquisite  clearness    and  intelligibility,  now 


TLU]  GEOLOGICAL  REF0R2L  247 

more  than  a  century  old/  but  deduced  from  it  some  of 
its  more  important  consequences,  such  as  the  constant 
turning  of  one  face  of  the  moon  towards  the  earth. 

But  there  is  a  long  step  from  the  demonstration  of  a 
tendency  to  the  estimation  of  the  practical  value  of  that 
tendency,  which  is  all  with  which  we  are  at  present 
concerned.  The  facts  bearing  on  this  point  appear  to 
stand  as  follow  : — 

It  is  a  matter  of  observation  that  the  moon's  mean 
motion  is  (and  has  for  the  last  3,000  years  been)  under- 
going an  acceleration,  relatively  to  the  rotation  of  the 
earth.  Of  course  this  may  result  from  one  of  two 
causes :  the  moon  may  really  have  been  moving  more 
swiftly  in  its  orbit;  or  the  earth  may  have  been  rotating 
more  slowly  on  its  axis. 

Laplace  believed  he  had  accounted  for  this  phseno- 
menon  by  the  fact  that  the  eccentricity  of  the  earth's 
orb  it  has  beendiminishing  throughout  these  3,000  years. 
This  would  produce  a  diminution  of  tlie  mean  attraction 
of  the  sun  on  the  moon ;  or,  in  other  words,  an  increase 
in  the  attraction  of  the  earth  on  the  moon  ;  and,  con- 
sequently, an  increase  in  the  rapidity  of  the  orbital 
motion  of  the  latter  body.  Laplace,  therefore,  laid  the 
responsibility  of  the  acceleration  upon  the  moon,  and 
if  his  views  were  correct,  the  tidal  retardation  must 
either  be  insignificant  in  amount,  or  be  counteracted  by 
some  other  agency. 

Our  great  astronomer,  Adams,  however,  appears  to 
have  found  a  flaw  in  Laplace's  calculation,  and  to  have 
shown  that  only  half  the  observed  retardation  could  be 
accounted   for  in   the   way  he  had    suggested.       There 

*  "  Untersucliung  der  Frage  ob  die  Erde  in  ilirer  Umdreliung  um  die 
Achse,  wodrucli  sie  die  Abwecliselimg  des  Tages  imd  der  Nacht  liervorbringt, 
einige  Veranderiing  seit  den  ersten  Zeiten  iiires  Ursprunges  erlitten  liabe, 
&C." — Kakt's  8dm'mtliche  Wtrke^  Bd.  i.  p.  178. 


248  L^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xj. 

remains,  therefore,  tlie  otlier  lialf  to  be  acconnted  for ; 
and  liere,  in  tlie  absence  of  all  positive  knowledge,  three 
sets  of  hypotheses  have  been  suggested. 

(a.)  M.  Delannay  suggests  that  the  earth  is  at  fault,  in 
consequence  of  the  tidal  retardation.  Messrs.  Adams, 
Thomson,  and  Tait  work  out  this  suggestion,  and,  "  on 
a  certain  assumption  as  to  the  proportion  of  retardations 
due  to  the  sun  and  moon,'^  find  the  earth  may  lose 
twenty-two  seconds  of  time  in  a  century  from  this  cause.^ 

(6.)  But  M.  Dufour  suggests  that  the  retardation  of  the 
earth  (which  is  hypothetically  assumed  to  exist)  may  be 
due  in  part,  or  wholly,  to  the  increase  of  the  moment 
of  inertia  of  the  earth  by  meteors  falling  upon  its  surface. 
This  suggestion  also  meets  with  the  eutire  approval  of 
Sir  W.  Thomson,  who  shows  that  meteor-dust,  accumu- 
lating at  the  rate  of  one  foot  in  4,000  years,  would 
account  for  the  remainder  of  retardation.^ 

(c.)  Thirdly,  Sir  W.  Thomson  brings  forward  an  hypo- 
thesis of  his  own  with  respect  to  the  cause  of  the  hypo- 
thetical retardation  of  the  earth's  rotation  : — 

*'  Let  us  suppose  ice  to  melt  from  the  polar  regions 
(20°  round  each  pole,  we  may  say)  to  the  extent  of 
something  more  than  a  foot  thick,  enough  to  give  1*1 
foot  of  water  over  those  areas,  or  0'006  of  a  foot  of 
water  if  spread  over  the  Avhole  globe,  which  would,  in 
reality,  raise  the  sea-level  by  only  some  such  undiscover- 
able  difference  as  three-fourths  of  an  inch  or  an  inch. 
This,  or  the  reverse,  which  we  believe  might  happen  any 
year,  and  could  certainly  not  be  detected  without  far 
more  accurate  observations  and  calculations  for  the  mean 
sea-level  than  any  hitherto  made,  would  slacken  or 
quicken  the  earth's  rate  as  a  timekeeper  by  one-tenth  of 
a  second  per  year."  ^ 

I  do  not  presume  to  throw  the  slightest  doubt  upo^ 
>  Sir  W.  Thomson,  loc.  cit.,  p.  14.  *  Loc.  .it,,  p.  27.  ^  Ibid. 


xi.l  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM.  249 

tlie  accuracy  of  any  of  tlie  calculations  made  by  such 
distinguislied  mathematicians  as  those  who  have  made 
the  suggestions  I  have  cited.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
necessary  to  my  argument  to  assume  that  they  are  all 
correct.  But  I  desire  to  point  out  that  this  seems  to  be 
one  of  the  niany  cases  in  which  the  admitted  accuracy  of 
mathematical  process  is  allowed  to  throw  a  wholly 
inadmissible  appearance  of  authority  over  the  results 
obtained  by  them.  Mathematics  may  be  compared  to  a 
mill  of  exquisite  workmanship,  which  grinds  you  stuff  of 
any  degree  of  fineness;  but,  nevertheless,  what  you  get 
out  depends  upon  what  you  put  in  ;  and  as  the  grandest 
mill  in  the  world  will  not  extract  wheat-flour  from 
p^ascods,  so  pages  of  formulae  will  not  get  a  definite 
result  out  of  loose  data. 

In  the  present  instance  it  appears  to  be  admitted  : — 
1    That  it  is  not  absolutely  certain,  after  all,  whether 
the  moon's  mean  motion  is  undergoing  acceleration,  or 
the  earth's  rotation  retardation.-^      And  yet  this  is  tho 
key  of  the  whole  position. 

2.  If  the  rapidity  of  the  earth's  rotation  is  diminishing, 
it  is  not  certain  how  much  of  that  retardation  is  due  to 
tidal  friction,-~-rhow  much  to  meteors, — how  much  to 
possible  excess  of  melting  over  accumulation  of  polar 
ice,  during  the  period  covered  by  observation,  which 
amounts,  at  the  outside,  to  not  more  than  2,600  years. 

3.  The  effect  of  a  different  distribution  of  land  and 
water  in  modifying  the  retardation  caused  by  tidal 
friction,  and  of  reducing  it,  under  some  circumstances, 
to  a  minimum,  does  not  appear  to  be  taken  into 
account. 

4  During  the  Miocene  epoch  the  polar  ice  was  cer- 
tainly many  feet  thinner  than  it  has  been  during,  or 

*  It  will  te  miderstood  that  I  do  not  wish  to  deny  that  the  earth's  rotation 
may  6«  undergoing  retardation. 


250  LAY  SER3I0NS,  ABDRTlSSES,  ANB  REVIEWS.  [xi. 

since,  the  Glacial  epocli.  Sir  W.  Thomson  tells  ns  that 
the  accumulation  of  something:  more  than  a  foot  of 
ice  around  the  poles  (which  implies  the  withdrawal  of, 
say,  an  inch  of  water  from  the  general  surface  of  the 
sea)  will  cause  the  earth  to  rotate  quicker  by  one-tenth 
of  a  second  per  annum.  It  would  appear,  therefore, 
that  the  earth  may  have  been  rotating,  throughout  the 
whole  period  which  has  elapsed  from  the  commencement 
of  the  Glacial  epoch  down  to  the  present  time,  one,  or 
more,  seconds  per  annum  quicker  than  it  rotated  during 
the  Miocene  epoch. 

But,  acording  to  Sir  W.  Thomson's  calculation,  tidal 
retardation  will  only  account  for  a  retardation  of  22"  in 
a  century,  or  ^  ^    (say  i)  of  a  second  per  annum. 

Thus,  assuming  that  the  accumulation  of  polar  ice 
since  the  Miocene  epoch  has  only  been  sufficient  to 
produce  ten  times  the  effect  of  a  coat  of  ice  one  foot 
thick,  we  shall  have  an  accelerating  cause  which  covers 
all  the  loss  from  tidal  action,  and  leaves  a  balance 
of  i  a  second  per  annum  in  the  way  of  acceleration. 

If  tidal  retardation  can  be  thus  checked  and  over- 
thrown by  other  temporary  conditions,  what  becomes 
of  the  confident  assertion,  based  upon  the  assumed  uni- 
formity of  tidal  retardation,  that  ten  thousand  million 
years  ago  the  earth  must  have  been  rotating  more  than 
twice  as  fast  as  at  present,  and,  therefore,  that  we 
geologists  are  "  in  direct  opposition  to  the  principles 
of  Natural  Philosophy '^  if  we  spread  geological  history 
over  that  time  ? 

II.  The  second  argument  is  thus  stated  by  Sir  W. 
Thomson  :-— "An  article,  by  myself,  published  in  '  Mac- 
millan's  Magazine  '  for  March  1862,  on  the  age  of  tho 
sun's  heat,  explains  results  of  investigation  into  various 
questions  as  to  possibilities  regarding  the  amount  of  heat 
that  the  sun  could  have,  dealing  with  it  as  you  would 


v.]  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM.  5^51 

with  a  stone,  or  a  piece  of  matter,  only  taking  into 
account  the  sun's  dimensions,  which  showed  it  to  be 
possible  that  the  sun  may  have  already  illuminated  the 
earth  for  as  many  as  one  hundred  million  years,  but  at 
the  same  time  rendered  it  almost  certain  that  he  had  not 
illuminated  the  earth  for  five  hundred  millions  of  years. 
The  estimates  here  are  necessarily  very  vague  ;  but  yet, 
vague  as  they  are,  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  possible,  upon 
any  regisonable  estimate  founded  on  known  properties 
of  matter,  to  say  that  we  can  believe  the  sun  has  really 
illuminated  the  earth  for  five  hundred  million  years."-^ 

I  do  not  wish  to  "  Hansardize  "  Sir  William  Thomson 
by  laying  much  stress  on  the  fact  that,  only  fifteen  years 
ago,  he  entertained  a  totally  different  view  of  the  origin 
of  the  sun's  heat^  and  believed  that  the  energy  radiated 
from  year  to  year  was  supplied  from  year  to  year — 
a  doctrine  which  would  have  suited  Hutton  perfectly. 
But  the  fact  that  so  eminent  a  physical  philosopher  has, 
thus  recently,  held  views  opposite  to  those  which  he  now 
entertains,  and  that  he  confesses  his  own  estimates  to 
be  ''very  vague,''  justly  entitles  us  to  disregard  those 
estimates,  if  any  distinct  facts  on  our  side  go  against 
them.  However,  I  am  not  aware  that  such  facts  exist. 
As  I  have  already  said,  for  anything  I  know,  one,  two, 
or  three  hundred  millions  of  years  may  serve  the  needs 
of  geologists  perfectly  well. 

in.  The  third  line  of  argument  is  based  upon  the 
temperature  of  the  interior  of  the  earth.  Sir  W, 
Thomson  refers  to  certain  investigations  which  prove 
that  the  present  thermal  condition  of  the  interior  of 
the  earth  implies  either  a  heating  of  the  earth  within  the 
last  20,000  years  of  as  much  as  100°  F.,  or  a  greater 
heating  all  over  the  surface  at  some  time  further  back 
than  20,000  years,  and  then  proceeds  thus  :~ 

*  Loc.  cit.,  p.  20, 


252  LAY  SERMONS,  ADiJRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xi. 

"Now,  are  geologists  prepared  to  admit  that,  at  some 
time  witliin  the  last  20,000  years,  there  has  been  all 
over  the  earth  so  high  a  temperature  as  that  ?  I  pre- 
sum^e  not ;  no  geologist — no  modern  geologist — would 
for  a  moment  admit  the  hypothesis  that  the  present 
state  of  underground  heat  is  due  to  a  heating  of  the 
surface  at  so  late  a  period  as  20,000  years  ago.  If  that 
is  ♦  not  admitted,  we  are  driven  to  a  greater  heat  at  some 
time  more  than  20,000  years  ago.  A  greater  heating 
all  over  the  surface  than  100°  Fahrenheit  would  kill 
nearly  all  existing  plants  and  animals,  I  may  safely  say. 
Are  modern  geologists  prepared  to  say  that  all  life  was 
killed  off  the  earth  50,000,  100,000,  or  200,000  years 
ago  ?  For  the  uniformity  theory,  the  further  back  the 
time  of  high  surface-temperature  is  put  the  better; 
but  the  further  back  the  time  of  heating,  the  hotter  it 
must  have  been.  The  best  for  those  who  draw  most 
largely  on  time  is  that  which  puts  it  furthest  back  ; 
and  that  is  the  theory  that  the  heating  was  enough 
to  melt  the  whole.  But  even  if  it  was  enough  to 
melt  tiie  whole,  we  must  still  admit  some  limit,  such  as 
fifty  niillion  years,  one  hundred  million  years,  or  two 
or  three  hundred  million  yea.rs  ago.  Beyond  that  we 
cannot  go."  ^ 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  "limit"  is  once  again 
of  the  vaguest,  ranging  from  50,000,000  years  to 
300,000,000.  And  the  reply  is,  once  more,  that,  for 
anything  that  can  be  proved  to  the  contrary,  one  or 
two  huudred  million  years  might  serve  the  purpose, 
even  of  a  through-going  Huttonian  uniformitarian, 
very  WselL 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  100,000,000  or 
200,000,000  years  appear  to  be  insufficient  for  geo- 
logical purposes,  we  must  closely  criticise  the  method 

*  Loc.  cit.,  p.  24. 


XI.]  GEOLOGICAL  REFORM.  253 

by  whicli  the  limit  is  readied.  The  argument  is  simple 
enough.  Assuming  the  earth  to  be  nothing  but  a  cool- 
ing mass,  the  quantity  of  heat  lost  per  year,  supposing 
the  rate  of  cooling  to  have  been  uniform,  multiplied 
by  any  given  number  of  years,  will  be  given  the  mini- 
mum temperature  that  number  of  years  ago. 

But  is  the  earth  nothing  but  a  cooling  mass,  "  like 
a  hot- water  jar  such  as  is  used  in  carriages,''  or  "  a  globe 
of  sandstone  "  ?  and  has  its  cooling  been  uniform  1  An 
affirmative  answer  to  both  these  questions  seems  to  be 
necessary  to  the  validity  of  the  calculations  on  which 
Sir  W.  Thomson  lays  so  much  stress. 

Nevertheless  it  surely  may  be  urged  that  such  affirma- 
tive answers  are  purely  hypothetical,  and  that  other 
suppositions  have  an  equal  right  to  consideration. 

For  example,  it  it  not  possible  that,  at  the  prodigious 
temperature  which  w^ould  seem  to  exist  at  100  miles 
below  the  surface,  all  the  metallic  bases  may  behave  as 
mercury  does  at  a  red  heat,  when  it  refuses  to  combine 
with  oxygen  ;  while,  nearer  the  surface,  and  therefore  at 
a  lower  temperature,  they  may  enter  into  combination  (as 
mercury  does  with  oxygen  a  few  degrees  below  its  boiling- 
point)  and  so  give  rise  to  a  heat  totally  distinct  from 
that  which  they  possess  as  cooling  bodies  ?  And  has 
it  not  also  been  proved  by  recent  researches  that  the 
quality  of  the  atmosphere  may  immensely  affect  its 
permeability  to  heat ;  and,  consequently,  profoundly 
modify  the  rate  of  cooling  the  globe  as  a  whole  1 

I  do  not  think  it  can  be  denied  that  such  conditions 
may  exist,  and  may  so  greatly  affect  the  supply,  and  the 
loss,  of  terrestrial  heat  as  to  destroy  the  value  of  any 
calculations  which  leave  them  out  of  sio;ht. 

My  functions   as   your  advocate    are    at  an   end.     I 
speak  with  more  than  the  sincerity  of  a  mere  advocate 
12 


254  LAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xi. 

when  I  express  tlie  belief  tliat  tlie  case  against  us  has 
entirely  broken  doAvn.  The  cry  for  reform  which  has 
been  raised  without,  is  superfluous,  inasmuch  as  we 
have  long  been  reforming  from  within,  with  all  needful 
speed.  And  the  critical  examination  of  the  grounds 
upon  which  the  very  grave  charge  of  opposition  to 
the  principles  of  Natural  Philosophy  has  been  brought 
against  us,  rather  shows  that  we  have  exercised  a  wise 
discrimination  in  declining,  for  the  present,  to  meddle 
with,  our  foundations. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES 

Mil.  Dahwin's  long-standing  and  well-earned  scientifi. 
eminence  probably  renders  bim  indifferent  to  tbat  social 
notoriety  wbicb  passes  by  tbe  name  of  success ;  but  if 
the  calm  spirit  of  tbe  pbilosopber  have  not  yet  wholly 
superseded  the  ambition  and  the  vanity  of  the  carnal 
man  within  him,  he  must  be  well  satisfied  with  the 
results  of  his  venture  in  publishing  the  *'  Origin  of 
Species/^  Overflowing  the  narrow  bounds  of  purely 
scientific  circles,  the  "  species  question "  divides  with 
Italy  and  the  Volunteers  the  attention  of  general  society. 
Everybody  has  read  Mr.  Darwin's  book,  or,  at  least,  has 
given  an  opinion  upon  its  merits  or  demerits ;  pietists, 
whether  lay  or  ecclesiastic,  decry  it  with  the  mild 
railing  v/hich  sounds  so  charitable  ;  bigots  denounce  it 
with  r  ignorant  invective ;  old  ladies  of  both  sexes 
consider  it  a  ..iiecidedly  dangerous  book,  and  even 
savans,  who  have  no  better  mud  to  throw,  quote  anti- 
quated writers  to  show  that  its  author  is  no  better  than 
an  ape  himself ;  while  every  philosophical  thinker 
hails  it  as  a  veritable  AYhitworth  gun  in  the  armoury  of 
liberalism ;  and  all  competent  naturalists  and  physio- 
logists, whatever  their  opinions  as  to  the  ultimate  fate 
of  the  doctrines  put  forth,  acknowledge  that  the  work  in 
which  they  are  embodied  is  a  solid  contribution  to  know- 
ledge and  inaugurates  a  new  epoch  in  natural  history. 


256  LAY  SERMONS,  ABDRHSSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [xii. 

Nor  has  the  discussion  of  the  subject  been  restrained 
within  the  limits  of  conversation.  When  the  public  is 
eag^er   and  interested,    reviewers    must   minister  to   its 

o  ... 

wants  ;  and  the  genuine  litterateur  is  too  much  in  the 
habit  of  acquiring  his  knowledge  from  the  book  he 
judges— as  the  Abyssinian  is  said  to  provide  himself 
with  steaks  from  the  ox  which  carries  him — to  be  w^ith- 
held  from  criticism  of  a  profound  scientific  work  by  the 
mere  want  of  the  requisite  preliminary  scientific  acquire- 
ment ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  men  of  science  who 
wish  well  to  the  new  views,  no  less  than  those  who 
dispute  their  validity,  have  naturally  sought  oppor- 
tunities of  expressing  their  opinions.  Hence  it  is  not 
surprising  that  almost  all  the  critical  journals  have 
noticed  Mr.  Darwin's  work  at  greater  or  less  length ; 
and  so  many  disquisitions,  of  every  degree  of  excellence, 
from  the  poor  product  of  ignorance,  too  often  stimulated 
by  prejudice,  to  the  fair  and  thoughtful  essay  of  the 
candid  student  of  Nature,  have  appeared,  that  it  seems 
an  almost  helpless  task  to  attempt  to  say  anything  new 
upon  the  question.- 

But  it  raay  be  doubted  if  the  knowledge  and  acumen 
of  prejudged  scientific  opponents,  or  the  subtlety  of 
orthodox  special  plea.ders,  have  yet  exerted  their  full 
force  in  mystifying  the  real  issues  of  the  great  contro- 
versy which  has  been  set  afoot,  and  whose  end  is  hardly 
likely  to  be  seen  by  this  generation  ;  so  that  a,t  this 
eleventh  hour,  and  even  failing  anything  new,  it  may  be 
useful  to  state  afresh  that  which  is  true,  and  to  put  the 
fundamental  positions  advocated  by  Mr.  Darwin  in  such 
a  form  that  they  may  be  grasped  by  those  whose  special 
studies  lie  in  other  directions.  And  the  adoption  of  this 
course  may  be  the  more  advisable,  beca.use  notwith- 
standing its  gi'cat  deserts,  and  indeed  partly  on  account 
of  them,  the  '*  Origin  of  Species"  is  by  no  moang  an  easy 


sii.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  257 

book  to  read — if  by  reading  is  implied  tlie  full  com- 
preliension  of  an  authors  meaning. 

"We  do  not  speak  jestingly  in  saying  that  it  is  Mr. 
Darwin^s  misfortune  to  know  more  about  the  question  he 
has  taken  up  than  any  man  living.  Personally  and 
practically  exercised  in  zoology,  in  minute  anatomy,  in 
geology  ;  a  student  of  geographical  distribution,  not  on 
maps  and  in  museums  only,  but  by  long  voyages  and 
hiborious  collection ;  having  largely  advanced  each  of 
these  branches  of  science,  and  having  spent  many  years 
in  gathering  and  sifting  materials  for  his  present  work, 
the  store  of  accurately  registered  facts  upon  which  the 
author  of  the  "  Origin  of  Species  ^'  is  able  to  draw  at 
will  is  prodigious. 

But  this  very  superabundance  of  matter  must  have 
been  embarrassing  to  a  writer  who,  for  the  present,  can 
only  put  forward  an  abstract  of  his  views  ;  and  4;hence  it 
arises,  perhaps,  that  notwithstanding  the  clearness  of  the 
style,  those  who  attempt  fairly  to  digest  the  book  find 
much  of  it  a  sort  of  intellectual  pemmican — a  mass  of 
facts  crushed  and  pounded  into  shape,  rather  than  held 
together  by  the  ordinary  medium  of  an  obvious  logical 
bond  :  due  attention  will,  without  doubt,  discover  this 
bond,  but  it  is  often  hard  to  find. 

Again,  from  sheer  want  of  room,  much  has  to  be 
taken  for  granted  which  might  readily  enough  be  proved  ; 
and  hence,  while  the  adept,  who  can  supply  the  missing 
links  in  the  evidence  from  his  own  knowledge,  discovers 
fresh  proof  of  the  singular  thoroughness  with  which  all 
difficulties  have  been  considered  and  all  nnjustifiable 
suppositions  avoided,  at  every  reperusal  of  Mr.  Darwin's 
pregnant  paragraphs,  the  novice  in  biology  is  apt  to 
complain  of  the  frequency  of  what  he  fancies  is  gra- 
tuitous assumption. 

Thus  w^hile  it  may  be  doubted  if,  for  some  years,  any 


258  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii. 

one  is  likely  to  be  competent  to  pronounce  judgment  on 
all  the  issues  raised  by  Mr.  Darwin,  there  is  assuredly 
abundant  room  for  him,  who,  assuming  the  humbler, 
though  perhaps  as  useful,  office  of  an  interpreter  between 
the  ''  Origin  of  Species  "  and  the  pubUc,  contents  himself 
with  endeavouring  to  point  out  the  nature  of  the 
problems  which  it  discusses ;  to  distinguish  between 
the  ascertained  facts  and  the  theoretical  views  which  it 
contains ;  and  finally,  to  show  the  extent  to  which  the 
explanation  it  offers  satisfies  the  requirements  of  scientific 
logic.  At  any  rate,  it  is  this  ofiice  which  we  purpose  to 
undertake  in  the  following  pages. 

It  may  be  safely  assumed  that  our  readers  have  a 
general  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  objects  to  which 
the  word  "  sjDecies  ^'  is  applied ;  but  it  has,  perhaps, 
occurred  to  a  few,  even  to  those  who  are  naturalists  ex 
professo,  to  reflect,  that,  as  commonly  employed,  the 
term  has  a  double  sense  and  denotes  two  very  diff'erent 
orders  of  relations.  When  we  call  a  grou.p  of  animals, 
or  of  plants,  a  species,  we  may  imply  thereby,  either 
that  all  these  animals  or  plants  have  some  common 
peculiarity  of  form  or  structure  ;  or,  we  may  mean  that 
they  possess  some  common  functional  character.  That 
part  of  biological  science  which  deals  with  form  and 
structure  is  called  Morphology — that  which  concerns 
itself  with  function,  Physiology— so  that  we  may  con- 
veniently speak  of  these  two  senses,  or  aspects,  of 
"  species '' — the  one  as  morpholgical,  the  other  as  phy- 
siological. Eegarded  from  the  former  point  of  view,  a 
species  is  nothing  more  than  a  kind  of  animal  or  plant, 
which  is  distinctly  definable  from  all  others,  by  certain 
constant,  and  not  mearly  sexual,  morphological  peculiar- 
ities. Thus  horses  form  a  sjDecies,  because  the  group  of 
animals  to  which  that  name  is  applied  is  distinguished 
from  all  others  in  the  world  by  the  following  constantly 


XII.3  TEE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  259 

associated  cliaracters.  They  have  1.  A  vertebral  column  ; 
2.  Mammse  ;  3.  A  placental  embryo  ;  4.  Four  legs  ;  5.  A 
single  well-developed  toe  in  each  foot  provided  with  a 
hoof ;  6.  A  bushy  tail ;  and  7.  Callosities  on  the  inner 
sides  of  both  the  fore  and  the  hind  legs.  The  asses, 
again,  form  a  distinct  species,  because,  with  the  same 
characters,  as  far  as  the  fifth  in  the  above  list,  all  asses 
have  tufted  tails,  and  have  callosities  only  on  the  inner 
side  of  the  fore  legs.  If  animals  were  discovered  having 
the  general  characters  of  the  horse,  but  sometimes  with 
callosities  only  on  the  fore  legs,  and  more  or  less  tufted 
tails;  or  animals  having  the  general  characters  of  the 
ass,  but  with  more  or  less  bushy  tails,  and  sometimes 
with  callosities  on  both  pairs  of  legs,  besides  being  inter- 
mediate in  other  respects — the  two  species  would  have 
to  be  merged  into  one.  They  could  no  longer  be 
regarded  as  morphologically  distinct  species,  for  they 
would  not  be  distinctly  definable  one  from  the  other. 

However  bare  and  simple  this  definition  of  species 
may  appear  to  be,  we  confidently  appeal  to  all  practical 
naturalists,  whether  zoologists,  botanists,  or  palaeonto- 
logists, to  say  if,  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  they 
know,  or  mean  to  affirm,  anything  more  of  the  group  of 
animals  or  plants  they  so  denominate  than  what  has  just 
been  stated.  Even  the  most  decided  advocates  of  the 
received  doctrines  respecting  species  admit  this. 

** I  appreliend,"  says  Professor  Owen,^  "that  few  naturalists  now- 
a-days,  in  describing  and  proposing  a  name  for  what  they  call  *  a  new 
species,^  use  that  term  to  signify  what  was  meant  by  it  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago  ;  that  is,  an  originally  distinct  creation,  maintaining  its 
primitive  distinction  by  obstructive  generative  peculiarities.  The  pro- 
poser of  the  new  species  now  intends  to  state  no  more  than  he 
actually  knows;   as,  for  example,  that  the  differences   on  which  he 

1  On  the  Osteology  of  the  Chimpanzees  and  Orangs :  Transactions  of  the 
Zoological  Society,  1858. 


260  ^-^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEIVS.  [xii. 

fonnds  the  specific  character  are  constant  in  individuals  of  both  sexes, 
so  far  as  observation  has  reached ;  and  that  they  are  not  due  to 
domestication  or  to  artifi-cially  superinduced  external  circumstances,  or 
to  any  outward  influence  within  his  cognizance ;  that  the  species  is 
wild,  or  is  such  as  it  appears  by  ligature." 

If  we  consider,  in  fact,  that  by  far  the  largest  pro- 
portion of  recorded  existing  species  are  known  only  by 
the  study  of  their  skins,  or  bones,  or  other  lifeless 
exuvia ;  that  we  are  acquainted  with  none,  or  next  to 
none,  of  their  physiological  peculiarities,  beyond  those 
which  can  be  deduced  from  their  structure,  or  are  open 
to  cursory  observation;  and  that  we  cannot  hope  to 
learn  more  of  any  of  those  extinct  forms  of  life  which 
now  constitute  no  inconsiderable  proportion  of  the  knowxi 
Flora  and  Fauna  of  the  world :  it  is  obvious  that  the 
definitions  of  these  species  can  be  only  of  a  purely 
structural  or  morphological  character.  It  is  probable 
that  naturalists  would  have  avoided  much  confusion  of 
ideas  if  they  had  more  frequently  borne  the  necessary 
limitations  of  our  knowledge  in  mind.  But  while  it 
may  safely  be  admitted  that  w^e  are  acquainted  with 
only  the  morphological  characters  of  the  vast  majority 
of  species — the  functional,  or  physiological,  peculiarities 
of  a  few  have  been  carefully  investigated,  and  the  result 
of  that  study  forms  a  large  and  most  interesting  portion 
of  the  physiology  of  reproduction. 

The  student  of  Nature  wonders  the  more  and  is  as- 
tonished  tKeless^,  tlie  more  conversant  he  becomes  with 
her  operations;  but  of  all  the  perennial  miracles  she 
offers  to  his  inspection,  perhaps  the  most  worthy  of 
admiration  is  the  development  of  a  plant  or  of  an  animal 
If 6m  its  embrj^o.  Examine  the  recently  laid  egg"~of 
Bome  common  animal,  such  as  a  salamander  or  a  new^t. 
It  is  a  minute  spheroid  in  which  the  best  microscope 
win  reveal  nothing  but  a  structureless  sac,  enclosing  a 


sir.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  261 

glairy  fluid,  holding  granules  in  suspension.  But  strange 
possibilities  lie  dormant  in  tliat  semi-fluid  globule.  Let 
a  moderate  supply  of  warmth  reach  its  watery  cradle, 
and  the  plastic  matter  imdergoes  changes  so  rapid  and 
yet  so  steady  and  purposelike  in  their  succession,  that 
one  can  only  compare  them  to  those  operated  by  a 
skilled  modeller  upon  a  formless  lump  of  clay.  As 
with  an  invisible  trowel,  the  mass  is  divided  and  sub- 
divided into  smaller  and  smaller  portions,  until  it  is 
reduced  to  an  aggregation  of  granules  not  too  large  to 
build  withal  the  finest  fabrics  of  the  nascent  organism. 
And,  then,  it  is  as  if  a  delicate  finger  traced  out  the  line 
to  be  occupied  by  the  spinal  column,  and  moulded  the 
contour  of  the  body ;  pinching  up  the  head  at  one  end, 
the  tail  at  the  other,  and  fashioning  flank  and  limb  into 
due  salamandrine  proportions,  in  so  artistic  a  way,  that, 
after  watching  the  process  hour  by  hour,  one  is  almost 
involuntarily  possessed  by  the  notion,  that  some  more 
subtle  aid  to  vision  than  an  achromatic,  Vv^ould  show  the 
hidden  artist,  with  his  plan  before  him,  striving  with 
skilful  manipulation  to  perfect  his  work. 

As  life  advances,  and  the  young  amphibian  ranges  the 
waters,  the  terror  of  his  insect  contemporaries,  not  only 
are  the  nutritious  particles  supplied  by  its  prey,  by  the 
addition  of  which  to  its  frame  growth  takes  place,  laid 
down,  each  in  its  proper  sjDot,  and  in  such  due  proportion 
to  the  rest,  as  to  reproduce  the  form,  the  colour,  and  the 
size,  characteristic  of  the  parental  stock ;  but  even  the 
wonderful  powers  of  reproducing  lost  parts  possessed  by 
these  animals  are  controlled  by  the  same  governing 
tendency.  Cut  off"  the  legs,  the  tail,  the  jaws,  separately 
or  all  together,  and,  as  Spall anzani  showed  long  ago, 
these  parts  not  only  grow  again,  but  the  redintegrated 
limb  is  formed  on  the  same  type  as  those  which  were 
lost.     The  new  jaw,  or  leg,  is  a  newt's,  and  never  by  any 


262  LJY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii. 

accident  more  like  that  of  a  frog.  What  is  true  of  the 
newt  is  true  of  every  animal  and  of  every  plant ;  the 
acorn  tends  to  build  itself  up  again  into  a  woodland 
giant  such  as  that  from  whose  twig  it  fell ;  the  spore  of 
the  humblest  lichen  reproduces  the  green  or  brown 
incrustation  vdiich  gave  it  bhth ;  and  at  the  other  end 
of  the  scale  of  life,  the  child  that  resembled  neither  the 
paternal  nor  the  maternal  side  of  the  house  would  be 
reo^arded  as  a  kind  of  monster. 

So  that  the  one  end  to  which,  in  all  living  beings,  the 
formative  impulse  is  tending — the  one  scheme  which  the 
^  llrchssus    of  the    old  speculators  strives   to    carry   out, 
J    seeiins  to  be  to  mould  the  offspring  into  the  likeness  of 
fc    the  parent.     It  is  the  first  great  law  of  reproduction, 
%    that  the  offspring  tends  to  resemble  its  parent  or  parents, 
^   more  closely  than  anything  else. 
V\    Science  will  some  day  show  us  how  this  law  is    a 
Necessary  consequence  of  the  more  general  laws  which 
govern  matter ;  but,  for  the  present,  more  can  hardly  be 
said  than  that  it  appears  to  be  in  harmony  with  them. 
We  know  that  the  phsenomena  of  vitality  are  not  some- 
thing  apart  from  other  physical  phaenomena,  but    one 
with  them  ;  and  matter  and  force  are  the  two  names  of 
the  one'  artist  who  fashions  the  living  as  well  as  the  life- 
less.    Hence  living  bodies  should  obey  the  same  great 
laws  as  other  matter — nor,  throughout  Nature,  is  there  a 
law  of  wider  application  than  this,  that  a  body  impelled 
by  two  forces  takes  the  direction  of  their  resultant.     But 
living  bodies  may  be  regarded  as  nothing  but  extremely 
complex  bundles  of  forces  held  in  a  mass  of  matter,  as 
the  complex  forces  of  a  magnet  are  held  in  the  steel  by 
Its  coercive  force ;   and,  since  the  differences  of  sex  are 
comparatively  slight,  or,  in  other  words,  the  sum  of  the 
forces   in  each  has  a  very   similar  tendency,  their   re- 
sultant, the   offspring,   may   reasonably  be  expected   to 


Lii.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  263 

deviate  but  little   from  a   course  parallel   to    cither,  or 
to  both. 

Eepresent  the  reason  of  tlie  law  to  ourselves  by  what 
physical  metaphor  or  analogy  we  will,  however,  the 
great  matter  is  to  apprehend  its  existence  and  the  im- 
portance of  the  consequences  deducible  from  it.  For 
things  whicli  are  like  to  the  same  are  like  to  oue  another, 
and  if,  in  a  great  series  of  generations,  every  offspring  is 
like  its  parent,  it  follows  that'  all  the  offspring  and  all 
the  parents  must  be  like  one  another ;  and  that,  given 
an  original  parental  stock,  with,  the  opportunity  of  un- 
disturbed multiplication,  the  law  in  question  necessitates 
the  production,  in  course  of  time,  of  an  indefinitely  large 
group,  the  whole  of  whose  members  are  at  once  very 
similar  and  are  blood  relations,  having  descended  from 
the  same  parent,  or  pair  of  parents.  The  proof  that  all 
the  members  of  any  given  group  of  animals,  or  plants, 
had  thus  descended,  would  be  ordinarily  considered 
sufficient  to  entitle  them  to  the  rank  of  physiological 
species,  for  most  physiologists  consider  species  to  be  de- 
finable as  ''the  offspring  of  a  single  primitive  stock." 

But  thougli  it  is  quite  true  that  all  those  groups  we 
call  species  may,  according  to  the  known  laws  of  re- 
production, have  descended  from  a  single  stock,,  and 
though  is  is  very  likely  they  really  have  clone  so,  yet 
this  conclusion  rests  on  deduction  and  can  hardly  hope 
to  establish  itself  upon  a  basis  of  observation.  And  the 
primitiveness  of  the  supposed  single  stock,  which,  after 
all,  is  the  essential  patt  of  the  matter,  is  not  only  a 
hypothesis,  but  one  which  has  not  a  shadow  of  founda- 
tion, if  by  ''primitive"  be  meant  "independent  of  any 
other  living  being."  A  scientific  definition,  of  which  an 
unwarrantable  hypothesis  forms  an  essential  part,  carries 
its  condemnation  within  itself;  but  even  supposing  such, 
a  definition  were,  in  form,  tenable,  the  physiologist  who 


264  l^Y  SERMONSy  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [iii, 

sliouM  attempt  to  apply  it  in  Nature  would  soon  find 
himself  involved  in  great,  if  not  inextricable,  difficulties. 
As  we  have  said,  it  is  indubitable  that  offspring  tend  to 
resemble  the  parental  organism,  but  it  is  equally  true 
that  the  similarity  attained  never  amounts  to  identity, 
either  in  form  or  in  structure.  There  is  always  a  certain 
amount  of  deviation,  not  only  from  the  precise  characters 
of  a  single  parent,  but  when,  as  in  most  animals  and 
many  plants,  the  sexes  are  lodged  in  distinct  individuals, 
from  an  exact  mean  between  the  two  parents.  And 
indeed,  on  general  principles,  this  slight  deviation  seems 
as  intelligible  as  the  general  similarity,  if  we  reflect  how 
complex  the  co-operating  "bundles  of  forces"  are,  and 
how  improbable  it  is  that,  in  any  case,  their  true  re- 
sultant shall  coincide  with  any  mean  between  the  more 
obvious  characters  of  the  two  parents.  Whatever  be 
its  cause,  however,  the  co-existence  of  this  tendency  to 
minor  variation  with  the  tendency  to  general  similarity, 
is  of  vast  importance  in  its  bearing  on  the  cjuestion  of 
the  origin  of  species. 

As  a  general  rule,  the  extent  to  which  an  oilspring 
differs  from  its  parent  is  slight  enough  ;  but,  occasionally, 
the  amount  of  difference  is  much  more  strongly  marked, 
and  then  the  divergent  offspring  receives  the  name  of  a 
Variety.  Multitudes,  of  what  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  are  such  varieties,  are  known,  but  the  origin  of 
very  few  has  been  accurately  recorded,  and  of  these  we 
will  select  two  as  more  especially  illustrative  of  the  main 
features  of  variation.  The  first  of  them  is  that  of  the 
"  Ancon,'^  or  "  Otter '*  sheep,  of  which  a  careful  accouni 
is  given  by  Colonel  David  Humphreys,  F.E.S.,  in  a  letter 
to  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  published  in  the  Philosophical 
Transactions  for  1813.  It  appears  that  one  Seth  Wright, 
the  proprietor  of  a  farm  on  the  banks  of  the  Charles 
River,  in  Massachusetts,  possessed  a  flock  of  fifteen  ewea 


rii.]  TEE  OlilGIN  OF  SPECIES.  265 

and  a  ram  of  the  ordinary  kind.  In  tlie  year  1791,  one 
of  the  ewes  presented  her  owner  with  a  male  lamb, 
differing,  for  no  assignable  reason,  from  its  parents  by  a 
23roport  ion  ally  long  body  and  short  bandy  legs,  whence 
it  w^as  nnable  to  emulate  its  relatives  in  those  sportive 
leaps  over  the  neighbours^  fences,  in  which  they  were 
in  the  habit  of  indulging,  much  to  the  good  farmer's 
vexation. 

The  second  case  is  that  detailed  by  a  no  less  unex- 
ceptionable authority  than  Eeaumur,  in  his  "  Art  de  fau^e 
eclore  les  Poulets.'^  A  Maltese  couple,  named  Kelleia, 
whose  hands  and  feet  were  constructed  upon  the  ordinary 
human  model,  had  born  to  them  a  son,  Gratio,  who  pos- 
sessed six  perfectly  moveable  fingers  on  each  hand  and 
six  toes,  not  quite  so  well  formed,  on  each  foot.  No 
cause  could  be  assigned  for  the  appearance  of  this  un- 
usual variety  of  the  human  species. 

Two  circumstances  are  well  worthy  of  remark  in  both 
these  cases.  In  each,  the  variety  appears  to  lia.ve  arisen 
in  full  force,  and,  as  it  w^ere,  per  saltum ;  a  wide  and 
definite  difference  appearing,  at  once,  between  the  Ancon 
ram  and  the  ordinary  sheep  ;  between  the  six-fingered 
and  six-toed  Gratio  Kelleia  and  ordinary  men.  In 
neither  case  is  it  possible  to  point  out  any  obvious  reason 
for  the  appearance  of  the  variety.  Doubtless  there  were 
determining  causes  for  these  as  for  all  other  phenomena ; 
but  they  do  not  appear,  and  we  can  be  tolerably  cer- 
tain that  wdiat  are  ordinarily  understood  as  changes  in 
physical  conditions,  as  in  climate,  in  food,  or  the  like, 
did  not  take  place  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter.  It  was  no  case  of  what  is  commonly  called 
adaptation  to  circumstances  ;  but,  to  use  a  conveniently 
erroneous  phrase,  the"  "variations  arose  spontaneously. 
The  fruitless  search  after  final  causes  leads  their  pursuers 
a  long  way  :  but  even  those  hardy  teleologists,  who  are 


266  LAY  SER3I0NS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xii 

ready  to  break  tliroiigli  all  tlie  laws  of  pliysics  iu  cliase 
of  tlieir  favourite  will-o'-tlie-wisjo,  may  be  puzzled  to 
discover  what  purpose  could  be  attained  by  the  stunted 
legs  of  Seth  Wright  s  ram  or  the  hexadactyle  members 
of  Gratio  Kelleia. 

Varieties  then  arise  we  know  not  why  ;  and  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  the  majority  of  varieties  have  arisen 
in  this  "spontaneous"  manner,  though  we  are,  of  course, 
far  from  denying  that  they  may  be  traced,  in  some  cases, 
to  distinct  external  influences  ;  which  are  assuredly  com- 
petent to  alter  the  character  of  the  tegumentary  cover- 
ing, to  change  colour,  to  increase  or  diminish  the  size  of 
muscles,  to  modify  constitution,  and,  among  plants,  to 
give  rise  to  the  metamorphosis  of  stamens  into  petals, 
and  so  forth.  But  however  they  may  have  arisen,  what 
especially  interests  us  at  present  is,  to  remark  that,  once 
in  existence,  varieties  obey  the  fundamental  law  of  re- 
production that  like  tends  to  produce  like,  and  their 
offspring  exemplify  it  by  tending  to  exhibit  the  same 
deviation  from  the  parental  stock  as  themselves.  Indeed, 
^lere  seems  to  be,  in  many  instances,  a  pre-potent  in- 
fluence about  a  newly-arisen  variety  which  gives  it 
what  one  may  call  an  unfair  advantage  over  the  normal 
descendants  from  the  same  stock.  This  is  strikingly 
exemplified  by  the  case  of  Gratio  Kelleia,  v/ho  married 
a  woman  with  the  ordinary  pentadactyle  extremities, 
and  had  by  her  four  children,  Salvator,  George,  Andre, 
and  Marie.  Of  these  children  Salvator,  the  eldest  boy, 
had  six  fingers  and  six  toes,  like  his  father ;  the  second 
and  third,  also  boys,  had  ^nq  fingers  and  ^n%  toes,  like 
their  mother,  though  the  hands  and  feet  of  George 
were  slightly  deformed ;  the  last,  a  girl,  had  five  fingers 
and  ^\^  toes,  but  the  thumbs  were  slightly  deformed. 
The  variety  thus  reproduced  itself  purely  in  the  eldest, 
while  the  normal  type  reproduced  itself  purely  in  ikv: 


XII.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  2G7 

tliird,  and  almost  purely  in  the  second  and  last  :  so 
that  it  would  seem,  at  first,  as  if  the  normal  type 
were  more  pow^erful  than  the  variety.  But  all  these 
children  grew  up  and  intermarried  wdth  normal  Avives 
and  husband,  and  then,  note  what  took  place  :  Sal- 
vator  had  four  children,  three  of  whom  exhibited  the 
hexadactyle  members  of  their  grandfather  and  father, 
while  the  youngest  had  the  pentadactyle  limbs  of  the 
mother  and  grandmother  ;  so  that  here,  notwithstanding 
a  double  pentadactyle  dilution  of  the  blood,  the  hexa- 
dactyle variety  had  the  best  of  it.  The  same  pre-potency 
of  the  variety  was  still  more  markedly  exemplified  in 
the  progeny  of  two  of  the  other  children,  Marie  and 
George.  Marie  (whose  thumbs  only  were  deformed) 
gave  birth  to  a  boy  with  six  toes,  and  three  other 
normally  formed  children  ;  but  George,  who  was  not 
quite  so  pure  a  pentadactyle,  begot,  first,  tw^o  girls,  each 
of  whom  had  six  fingers  and  toes ;  then  a  girl  with  six 
fingers  on  each  hand  and  six  toes  on  the  right  foot,  but 
only  ^YQ  toes  on  the  left ;  and  lastly,  a  boy  wdth  only 
five  fingers  and  toes.  In  these  instances,  therefore,  the 
variety,  as  it  were,  leaped  over  one  generation  to  re- 
produce itself  in  full  force  in  the  next.  Finally,  the 
purely  pentadactyle  Andre  w^as  the  father  of  many 
children,  not  one  of  whom  departed  from  the  normal 
parental  type. 

If  a  variation  which  approaches  the  nature  of  a  mon- 
strosity can  strive  thus  forcibly  to  reproduce  itself,  it  is 
not  wonderful  that  less  aberrant  modifications  should 
tend  to  be  preserved  even  more  strongly ;  and  the  history 
of  the  Ancon  sheep  is,  in  this  respect,  particularly  in- 
structive. With  the  "^cuteness"  characteristic  of  their 
nation,  the  neighbours  of  the  Massachusets  farmer 
imagined  it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  if  all  his  sheep 
were  imbued  wdth  the  stay-at-home  tendencies  enforced 


268  £^r  SFUMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  BEVIEJVS.  [xii, 

by  Nature  upon  tlie  newly-arrived  ram  ;  and  tliey  advised 
Wright  to  kill  the  old  patriarch  of  his  fold,  and  install 
the  Ancon  ram  in  his  place.  The  result  justified  their 
sagacious  anticipations,  and  coincided  very  nearly  with 
what  occiuTcd  to  the  progeny  of  Gratio  Kelleia.  The 
young  lambs  were  almost  always  either  pure  Ancons,  or 
pure  ordinary  sheep.^  But  when  suthcient  Ancon  sheej) 
were  obtained  to  interbreed  with  one  a^nother,  it  v^^as 
found  that  the  offspring  was  always  pure  Ancon.  Colonel 
Humphreys,  in  fact,  states  that  he  was  acquainted  with 
only  "one  questionable  case  of  a  contrary  nature." 
Here,  then,  is  a  remarkable  and  well-established  instance, 
not  only  of  a  very  distinct  race  being  established  ^jer 
scdtum,  but  of  that  race  breeding  "  true "  at  once,  and 
showing:  no  mixed  forms,  even  when  crossed  with  another 
breed. 

By  taking  care  to  select  Ancons  of  both  sexes,  for 
breeding  from,  it  thus  became  easy  to  establish  an  ex- 
,  tremely  well-marked  race  ;  so  peculiar  that,  even  when 
herded  with  other  sheep,  it  was  noted  that  the  Ancons 
kept  together.  And  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
the  existence  of  this  breed  might  have  been  indefinitely 
protracted ;  but  the  introduction  of  the  Merino  sheep, 
which  were  not  only  very  superior  to  the  Ancons  in  wool 
and  meat,  but  quite  as  quiet  and  orderly,  led  to  the  com- 
plete neglect  of  the  new  breed,  so  that,  in  1813,  Colonel 
Humphreys   found  it  difficult  to  obtain  the   specimen, 

1  Colonel  Humphreys'  statements  are  exceedingly  explicit  on  this  point : — 
''When  an  Ancon  ewe  is  impregnated  by  a  common  ram,  the  increase 
resembles  wholly  either  the  ewe  or  the  ram.  The  increase  of  the  common 
ewe  impregnated  by  an  Ancon  ram  follows  entirely  the  one  or  the  other, 
without  blending  any  of  the  distinguishing  and  essential  peculiarities  of  both. 
Frequent  instances  have  happened  where  common  ewes  have  had  twins  by 
Ancon  rams,  when  one  exhibited  the  complete  marks  and  features  of  the 
ewe,  the  other  of  the  ram.  The  contrast  has  been  rendered  singuL'vrly 
striking,  wlien  one  short-legged  and  one  long-legged  lamb,  produced  at  a 
birth,  have  been  seen  sucking  the  dam  at  the  same  time." — Fhilosophical 
Transactims,  1813,  Pt.  I.,  pp.  89,  90. 


fiL]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  269 

whose  skeleton  was  presented  to  Sir  Josepli  Banks.  We 
believe  that,  for  many  years,  no  remnant  of  it  has  existed 
in  the  United  States. 

Gratio  Kelleia  was  not  the  progenitor  of  a  race  of  six- 
fingered  men,  as  Setli  Wright's  ram  became  a  nation  of 
Ancon  sheep,  though  the  tendency  of  the  variety  to 
perpetutate  itself  appears  to  have  been  fully  as  strong,  in 
the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  And  the  reason  of  the 
difference  is  not  fax  to  seek.  Seth  Wright  took  care  not 
to  weaken  the  Ancon  blood  by  matching  his  Ancon  ewes 
with  any  but  males  of  the  same  variety,  while  G-ratio 
Kelleia's  sons  were  too  far  removed  from  the  patriarchal 
times  to  intermarry  with  their  sisters  ;  and  his  grand- 
children seem  not  to  have  been  attracted  by  their  six- 
fingered  cousins.  In  other  words,  in  the  one  example  a 
race  was  produced,  because,  for  several  generations,  care 
was  taken,  to  select  both  parents  of  the  breeding  stock 
"from  animals  exhibiting  "a  tendency  to  vary  in  the  same 
direction ;  while,  in  the  other,  no  race  was  evolved,  because 
no  such  selection  was  exercised.  A  race  is  a  propagated 
variety ;  and  as,  by  the  laws  of  reproduction, .  offspring 
tend  to  assume  the  parental  forms,  they  will  be  more 
likely  to  propagate  a  variation  exhibited  by  both  parents 
than  that  possessed  by  only  one. 

There  is  no  organ  of  the  body  of  an  animal  which 
may  not,  and  does  not,  occasionally,  vary  more  or  less 
from  the  normal  type ;  and  there  is  no  variation  wdiich 
may  not  be  transmitted,  and  which,  if  selectively  trans- 
mitted, may  not  become  the  foundation  of  a  race.  This 
great  truth,  sometimes  forgotten  by  philosophers,  has 
long  been  familiar  to  practical  agriculturists  and  breeders ; 
and  upon  it  rest  all  the  methods  of  improving  the  breeds 
of  domestic  animals,  which,  for  the  last  century,  have 
been  followed  with  so  much  success  in  England.  Colour, 
form,  size,  texture  of  hair  or  wool,  proportions  of  various 


270  lAT  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [sii. 

parts,  strength  or  weakness  of  constitution,  tendency  to 
fatten  or  to  remain  lean,  to  give  much  or  little  milk, 
speed,  strength,  temper,  intelligence,  special  instincts ; 
there  is  not  one  of  these  characters  whose  transmission 
is  not  an  every-day  occurrence  within  the  experience 
of  cattle-breeders,  stock-farmers,  horse-dealers,  and 
dog  and  poultry  fanciers.  Nay,  it  is  only  the  other, 
day  that  an  eminent  physiologist.  Dr.  Brown-Sequard, 
communicated  to  the  Eoyal  Society  his  discovery 
that  epilepsy,  artificially  produced  in  guinea-pigs,  by  a 
means  which  he  has  discovered,  is  transmitted  to  their 
offspring. 

But  a  race,  once  produced,  is  no  more  a  fixed  and 
immutable  entity  than  the  stock  whence  •  it  sprang ; 
variations  arise  among  its  members,  and  as  these  varia- 
tions are  transmitted  like  any  others,  new  races  may  be 
developed  out  of  the  pre-existing  one  ad  infinitum,  ov, 
at  least,  within  any  limit  at  present  determined.  Given 
sufficient  time  and  sufficiently  careful  selection,  and  the" 
multitude  of  races  v>^hich  may  a.rise  from  a  .common 
stock  is  as  astonishing  as  are  the  extreme  sf^'uctural 
differences  which  they  may  present.  A  remarkable 
example  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  rock-pigeon,  which 
Mr.  Darwin  has,  in  our  opinion,  satisfactorily  .•  demon- 
strated to  be  the  progenitor  of  all  out  domestic '  pigeons, 
of  which  there  are  certainly  more  than  a  hundred  well- 
marked  races.  The  most  noteworthy  of  these  races  are, 
the  four  great  stocks  known  to  the  "  fancy  "  as  tumblers, 
pouters,  carriers,  and  fantails  ;  birds  which  not  only  differ 
most  singularly  in  size,  colour,  and  habits,  but  in  the 
form  of  the  beak  and  of  the  skull :  in  the  proportions  of 
the  beak  to  the  skull ;  in  the  number  of  tail-feathers ;  in 
the  absolute  and  relative  size  of  the  feet ;  in  the  presence 
or  al)sence  of  the  uropygial  gland ;  in  the  number  of 
vertebrse  in  the  back;  in  short,  in  precisely  those  cha- 


£11.]  TEE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECiES.  271 

racters  in  whicli  tlie  genera  and  species  of  birds  differ 
from  one  another. 

And  it  is  most  remarkable  and  instructive  to  observe, 
that  none  of  these  races  can  be  shown  to  have  been 
originated  by  the  action  of  changes  in  what  are  com- 
monly called  external  circumstances,  upon  the  wild  rock- 
pigeon.  On  the  contrary,  from  time  immemorial,  pigeon 
fanciers  have  had  essentially  similar  methods  of  treating 
their  pets,  which  have  been  housed,  fed,  protected  and 
cared  for  in.  much  the  same  way  in  all  pigeonries.  In 
fact,  there  is  no  case  better  adapted  than  that  of  the 
pigeons  to  refute  the  doctrine  which  one  sees  put  forth 
on  high  authority,  that  "  no  other  characters  than  those 
founded  on  the  development  of  bone  for  the  attachment 
of  muscles"  are  capable  of  variation.  In  precise  con- 
tradiction of  this  liasty  assertion,  Mr.  Darwin  s  researches 
prove  that  the  skeleton  of  the  wings  in  domestic  pigeons 
has  hardly  varied  at  all  from  that  of  the  wild  type ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  in  exactly  those  respects, 
such  as  the  relative  length  of  the  beak  and  skull,  the 
number,  of  the  vertebrae,  and  the  number  of  the  tail- 
feathers,  in  which  muscular  exertion  can  have  no  im- 
portant influence,  that  the  utmost  amount  of  variation 
has  taken  place. 

"We  have  said  that  the  following  out  of  the  proj)erties 
exhibited  by  physiological  sjoecies  would  lead  us  into 
difficulties,  and  at  this  point  they  begin  to  be  obvious , 
for,  if,  as  the  result  of  spontaneous  variation  and  of 
selective  breeding,  the  progeny  of  a  common  stock  may 
become  separated  into  groups  distinguished  from  one 
another  by  constant,  not  sexual,  morphological  characters, 
it  is  clear  that  the  physiological  definition  of  species  is 
likely  to  clash  with  the  morphological  definition.  No 
one    would   hesitate   to    describe   the    pouter   and   the 


272  i^^r  8ER3I0NS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xn. 

tumbler  as  distinct  species,  if  tliey  were  found  fossil,  or 
if  tlieir  skins  and  skeletons  were  imported,  as  those  of 
exotic  wild  birds  commonly  are — and,  without  doubt,  if 
considered  alone,  they  are  good  and  distinct  morpho- 
logical species.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are  not  physio- 
logical species,  for  they  are  descended  from  a  common 
stock,  the  rock-pigeon. 

Under  these  circumstances,  as  it  is  admitted  on  all 
sides  that  races  occur  in  Nature,  how  are  we  to  know 
whether  any  apparently  distinct  animals  are  really  of 
different  physiological  species,  or  not,  seeing  that  the 
amount  of  morphological  difference  is  no  safe  guide  ? 
Is  there  any  test  of  a  physiological  species  ?  The  usutd 
answer  of  physiologists  is  in  the  affirmative.  It  is  said 
that  such  a  test  is  to  be  found  in  the  phsenomena  of 
hybridization— in  the  results  of  crossing  races,  as  com- 
pared v/ith  the  results  of  crossing  species. 

So  far  as  the  evidence  goes  at  present,  individuals,  of 
what  are  certainly  known  to  be  mere  races  produced  by 
selection,  however  distinct  they  may  appear  to  be,  not 
only  breed  freely  together,  but  the  offspring  of  such 
crossed  races  are  only  perfectly  fertile  with  one  another. 
Thus,  the  spaniel  and  the  greyhouud,  the  dray-horse  and 
the  Arab,  the  pouter  and-  the  tumbler,  breed  together 
with  perfect  freedom,  and  their  mongrels,  if  matched 
with  other  mongrels  of  the  same  kind,  are  equally  fertile. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
individuals  of  many  natural  species  are  either  absolutely 
infertile,  if  crossed  with  individuals  of  other  species,  or, 
if  they  give  rise  to  hybrid  offspring,  the  hybrids  so 
produced  are  infertile  when  paired  together.  The  horse 
and  the  ass,  for  instance,  if  so  crossed,  give  rise  to  the 
mule,  and  there  is  no  certain  evidence  of  offspring  ever 
ha,ving  been  produced  by  a  male  and  female  mule.  The 
unions  of  the  rock-pigeon  and  the  ring-pigeon  appear  to 


KiiJ  TUE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIES.  273 

be  equally  barren  of  result.  Here,  tlien,  says  the  phy- 
siologist, we  have  a  means  of  distinguishing  any  two 
true  species  from  any  two  varieties.  If  a  male  and  a 
female,  selected  from  each  group,  produce  offrspring,  and 
that  oifspring  is  fertile  with  others  produced  in  the  same 
way,  the  groups  are  races  and  not  species.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  no  result  ensues,  or  if  the  offspring  are 
infertile  with  others  produced  in  the  same  way,  they  are 
true  physiological  species.  The  test  would  be  an  admir- 
able one,  if,  in  the  first  place,  it  were  always  practicable 
to  apply  it,  and  if,  in  the  second,  it  always  yielded 
results  susceptible  of  a  definite  interpretation.  Unfor- 
tunately, in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  this  touchstone 
for  species  is  wdioUy  inapplicable. 

The  constitution  of  many  wild  animals  is  so  altered 
by  confinement  that  they  will  not  breed  even  with  their 
own  females,  so  -that  the  nesfative  results  obtained  from 
crosses  are  of  no  value  ;  and  the  antipathy  of  wild  animals 
of  difierent  species  for  one  another,  or  even  of  wild  and 
tame  members  of  the  same  species,  is  ordinarily  so  great, 
that  it  is  hopeless  to  look  for  such  unions  in  Nature. 
The  hermaphrodism  of  most  plants,  the  difiiculty  in  the 
way  of  ensuring  the  absence  of  their  own,  or  the  proper 
working  of  other  pollen,  are  obstacles  of  no  less  magni- 
tude in  applying  the  test  to  them.  And  in  both  animals 
and  plants  is  superadded  the  further  difficulty,  that 
experiments  must  be  continued  over  a  long  time  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  the  fertility  of  the  mongrel  or 
hybrid  progeny,  as  well  as  of  the  first  crosses  from 
which  the;y  spring. 

Not  only  do  these  great  practical  difficulties  lie  in  the 
way  of  applying  the  hybridization  test,  but  even  when 
this  oracle  can  be  questioned,  its  replies  are  sometimes 
as  doubtful  as  those  of  Delphi.  For  example,  cases  are 
cit^d  by  Mr.  Darwin,  of  plants  which  are  more  fertile 


274  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [xii. 

with  the  pollen  of  anotlier  species  tlian  with  their  own ; 
and  there  are  others,  such  as  certain  fuci,  whose  male 
element  will  fertilize  the  ovule  of  a  plant  of  distinct  spe- 
cies, while  the  males  of  the  latter  species  are  ineffective 
with  the  females  of  the  first.  So  that,  in  the  last-named 
instance,  a  physiologist,  who  should  cross  the  two  species 
in  one  way,  would  decide  that  they  were  true  species ; 
while  another,  who  should  cross  them  in  the  reverse 
way,  would,  with  equal  justice,  according  to  the  rule, 
pronounce  them  to  be  mere  races.  Several  jolants,  which 
there  is  great  reason  to  believe  are  mere  varieties,  are 
almost  sterile  when  crossed ;  while  both  animals  and 
plants,  which  have  always  been  regarded  by  naturalists 
as  of  distinct  species,  turn  out,  when  the  test  is  applied, 
to  be  perfectly  fertile.  Again,  the  sterility  or  fertility 
of  crosses  seems  to  bear  no  relation  to  the  structural 
resemblances  or  difierences  of  the  members  of  any  two 
groups. 

Mr.  Darwin  has  discussed  this  question  with  singular 
ability  and  circumspection,  and  his  conclusions  are 
summed  up  as  follow,  at  page  276  of  his  work : — 

"First  crosses  between  forms  sufficiently  distinct  to  be  ranked  as 
species,  and  their  hybrids,  are  very  generally,  but  not  universally, 
sterile.  The  sterility  is  of  all  degrees,  and  is  often  so  slight  that  the 
two  most  careful  experimentalists  who  have  ever  lived  have  come  to 
diametrically  opposite  conclusions  in  ranking  forms  by  this  test.  The 
sterility  is  innately  variable  in  individuals  of  the  same  species,  and  is 
eminently  susceptible  of  favourable  and  unfavourable  conditions.  The 
degree  of  sterility  does  not  strictly  follow  systematic  affinity,  but  is 
governed  by  several  curious  and  complex  laws.  It  is  generally  dif- 
ferent, and  sometimes  widely  different,  in  reciprocal  crosses  between 
the  same  two  species.  It  is  not  always  equal  in  degree  in  a  first  cross, 
and  in  the  hybrid  produced  from  this  cross. 

"  In  the  same  manner  as  in  grafting  trees,  the  capacity  of  one 
species  or  variety  to  take  on  another  is  incidental  on  generally 
unknown  differences  in  their  vegetative  systems ;  so  in  crossing,  the 
greater  or  less  facility  of  one  species  to  unite  with  another  is  inci- 
dental on  unknown  differences  in  their  reproductive  systems.     There 


Ki!.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIAS.  275 

is  no  mure  reason  to  think  tliat  species  have  been  specially  endowed 
with  various  degrees  of  sterility  to  prevent  them  crossing  and  breeding 
in  Nature,  than  to  think  that  trees  have  been  specially  endowed  with 
various  and  somewhat  analogous  degrees  of  difficulty  in  being  grafted 
together,  in  order  to  prevent  them  becoming  inarched  in  our  forests. 

"The  sterility  of  first  crosses  between  pure  species,  which  have 
their  reproductive  systems  perfect,  seems  to  depend  on  several  circum- 
stances ;  in  some  cases  largely  on  the  early  death  of  the  embryo.  The 
sterility  of  hybrids  which  have  their  reproductive  systems  imj)erfect, 
and  which  have  had  this  system  and  their  whole  organization  dis- 
turbed by  being  compounded  of  two  distinct  species,  seems  closely 
allied  to  that  sterility  which  so  frequently  affects  pure  species  when 
their  natural  conditions  of  life  have  been  disturbed.  This  view  is 
supported  by  a  parallelism  of  another  kind  ;  namely,  that  the  crossing 
of  forms,  only  slightly  different,  is  favourable  to  the  vigour  and  fertility 
of  the  offspring ;  and  that  slight  changes  in  the  conditions  of  life  are 
apparently  favourable  to  the  vigour  and  fertility  of  all  organic  beings. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  the  degree  of  difficulty  in  uniting  two  species 
and  the  degree  of  sterility  of  their  hybrid  offspring,  should  generally 
correspond,  though  due  to  distinct  causes ;  for  both  depend  on  the 
amount  of  difference  of  some  kind  between  the  species  which  are 
crossed.  Nor  is  it  surprising  that  the  facility  of  effecting  a  first  cross, 
the  fertility  of  hybrids  produced  from  it,  and  the  capacity  of  being 
grafted  together — though  this  latter  capacity  evidently  depends  on 
widely  different  circumstances — should  all  run  to  a  certain  extent 
parallel  with  the  systematic  affinity  of  the  forms  which  are  subjected 
to  experiment ;  for  systematic  affinity  attempts  to  express  all  kinds  of 
resemblance  between  all  species. 

"  Pirst  crosses  between  forms  known  to  be  varieties,  or  sufficiently 
alike  to  be  considered  as  varieties,  and  their  mongrel  offspring,  are 
very  generally,  but  not  quite  universally,  fertile.  Nor  is  this  nearly 
gener?d  and  perfect  fertility  surprising,  when  we  remember  how  liable 
we  are  to  argue  in  a  circle  with  respect  to  varieties  in  a  state  of 
Nature  ;  and  when  we  remember  that  the  greater  number  of  varieties 
have  been  produced  under  domestication  by  the  selection  of  mere 
external  differences,  and  not  of  differences  in  the  reproductive  system. 
In  all  other  respects,  excluding  fertility,  there  is  a  close  general 
resemblance  between  hybrids  and  mongrels." — Pp.  276-8. 

We  fully  agree  with  the  general  tenor  of  tliis  weighty 
passage;  but  forcible  as  are  these  arguments,  and  little  as 
the  value  of  fertility  or  infertility  as  a  test  of  species  may 
be,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  really  impo^^tant 


27^  l^r  SERMONS,  ALDllESSKS,  AND  REVIEWS,        .    [zii. 

fact,  SO  far  as  the  inquiry  into  the  origin  of  species 
goes,  is,  that  there  are  such  things  in  Nature  as  groups 
of  animals  and  of  plants,  whose  members  are  incapable 
of  fertile  union  with  those  of  other  groups ;  and  that 
there  are  such  things  as  hybrids,  which  are  absolutely 
sterile  when  crossed  with  other  hybrids.  For  if  such 
pbsenomena  as  these  were  exhibited  by  only  two  of  those 
assemblages  of  living  objects,  to  which  the  name  of 
species  (whether  it  be  used  in  its  physiological  or  in 
its  morphological  sense)  is  given,  it  would  have  to  be 
accounted  for  by  any  theory  of  the  origin  of  species,  and 
every  theory  which  could  not  account  for  it  v/ould  be,  so 
far,  imperfect. 

Up  to  this  point  we  have  been  dealing  with  matters  of 
fact,  and  the  statements  which  we  have  laid  before  the 
reader  would,  to  the  best  of  our  knowledge,  be  admitted 
to  contain  a  fair  exposition  of  what  is  at  present  known 
respecting  the  essential  properties  of  species,  by  all  who 
have  studied  the  question.  And  whatever  may  be  his  theo- 
retical views,  no  naturalist  will  probably  be  disposed  to 
demur  to  the  following  summary  of  that  exposition : — 

Living  beings,  whether  animals  or  plants,  are  divisible 
into  multitudes  of  distinctly  definable  kinds,  which  are 
morphological  species.  They  are  also  divisible  into 
groups  of  individuals,  which  breed  freely  together,  tend- 
ing to  reproduce  their  like,  and  are  physiological  species. 
Normally  resembling  their  parents,  the  offspring  of 
members  of  these  species  are  still  liable  to  vary,  and  the 
variation  may  be  perpetuated  by  selection,  as  a  race, 
which  race,  in  many  cases,  presents  all  the  characteristics' 
of  a  morphological  species.  But  it  is  not  as  yet  proved 
that  a  race  ever  exhibits,  when  crossed  with  another  race 
of  the  same  species,  those  phsenomena  of  hybridization 
which  are.  exhibited  by  many  species  when  crossed  with 
other  species.     On  the  other  hand,  not  only  is  it  not 


XII.]  TEE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  277 

proved  that  all  species  give  rise  to  hybrids  infertile 
inter  se,  but  there  is  much  reason  to  believe  that,  in 
crossing,  species  exhibit  every  gradation  from  perfect 
sterility  to  perfect  fertility. 

Such  are  the  most  essential  characteristics  of  species. 
Even  were  man  not  one  of  them — a  member  of  the  same 
system  and  subject  to  the  same  laws— the  question  of 
their  origin,  their  causal  connexion,  that  is,  with  the 
other  phsenomena  of  the  universe,  must  have  attracted 
his  attention,  as  soon  as  his  intelligence  had  raised  itself 
above  the  level  of  his  daily  wants. 

Indeed  history  relates  that  such  was  the  case,  and 
has  embalmed  for  us  the  speculations  upon  the  origin 
of  living  beings,  which  were  among  the  earliest  products 
of  the  dawning  intellectual  activity  of  man.  In  those 
early  days  positive  knowledge  was  not  to  be  had,  but  the 
craving  after  it  needed,  at  all  hazards,  to  be  satisfied,  and 
according  to  the  country,  or  the  turn  of  thought  of  the 
speculator,  the  suggestion  that  all  living  things  arose 
from  the  mrid  of  the  Nile,  from  a  primeval  egg,  or  from 
some  more  anthropomorphic  agency,  afforded  a  sufficient 
resting-place  for  his  curiosity.  The  myths  of  Paganism 
are  as  dead  as  Osiris  or  Zeus,  and  the  man  who  should 
revive  them,  in  opposition  to  the  knowledge  of  our  time, 
would  be  justly  laughed  to  scorn ;  but  the  coeval  imagi- 
nations current  among  the  rude  inhabitants  of  Palestine, 
recorded  by  writers  whose  very  name  and  age  are 
admitted  by  every  scholar  to  be  unknown,  have  unfor- 
tunately not  yet  shared  their  fate,  but,  even  at  this  day, 
are  regarded  by  nine-tenths  of  the  civilized  world  as  the 
authoritative  standard  of  fact  and  the  criterion  of  the 
justice  of  scientific  conclusions,  in  all  that  relates  to  the 
origin  of  things,  and,  among  them,  of  species.  In  this 
nineteenth  century,  as  at  the  da-wn  of  modern  physical 

13 


278  LAY  SERMONS,  ADBRi:SSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xa 

science,  tlie  cosmogony  of  tlie  semi-barbarous  Hebrew  is 
the  incubus  of  the  pliilosoplier  and  the  opprobrium  of  the 
orthodox.  Who  shall  number  the  patient  and  earnest 
seekers  after  truth,  from  the  days  of  Galileo  until  now, 
whose  lives  have  been  embittered  and  their  good  name 
blasted  by  the  mistaken  zeal  of  Bibliolaters  ?  Who 
shall  count  the  host  of  weaker  men  whose  sense  ol 
truth  has  been  destroyed  in  the  effort  to  harmonize 
impossibilities — rwhose  life  has  been  wasted  in  the 
attempt  to  force  the  generous  new  wine  of  Science 
into  the  old  bottles  of  Judaism,  compelled  by  the  outcry 
of  the  same  strong  party  1 

It  is  true  that  if  philosophers  have  suffered,  their 
cause  has  been  amply  avenged.  Extinguished  theolo- 
gians lie  about  the  cradle  of  every  science  as  the 
strangled  snakes  beside  that  of  Hercules ;  and  history 
records  that  whenever  science  and  orthodoxy  have  been  i 
fairly  opposed,  the  latter  has  been  forced  to  retire  from  ^ 
the  lists,  bleeding  and  crushed,  if  not  annihilated ; 
scotched,  if  not  slain.  But  orthodoxy  is  the  Bourbon 
of  the  world  of  thought.  It  learns  not,  neither  can  it 
forget ;  and  though,  at  present,  bewildered  and  afraid 
to  move,  it  is  as  willing  as  ever  to  insist  that  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis  contains  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  sound  science ;  and  to  visit,  with  such  petty  thunder- 
bolts  as  its  half-paralysed  hands  can  hurl,  those  who  \ 
refuse,  to  degrade  Nature  to  the  level  of  primitive 
Judaism. 

Philosophers,  on  the  other  hand,  have  no  such  aggres-  j 
sive  tendencies.  With  eyes  fixed  on  the  noble  goal  to  ^ 
which  "per  asp  era  et  ardua"  they  tend,  they  may,  now 
and  then,  be  stirred  to  momentary  wrath  by  the  unneces- 
sary obstacles  with  which  the  ignorant,  or  the  malicious, 
encumber,  if  they  cannot  bar,  the  difficult  path  ;  but 
why  should  their  souls  be  deeply  vexed  ?     The  majesty 


XII.]  fHE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  279 

of  Fact  is  on  their  side,  and  the  elemental  forces  of 
Nature  are  working  for  tliem.  Not  a  star  comes  to  the 
meridian  at  its  calculated  time  but  testifies  to  the  justice 
of  their  methods — their  beliefs  are  "  one  with  the  falling 
rain  and  with  the  growing  corn/'  By  doubt  they  are 
established,  and  open  inquiry  is  their  bosom  friend. 
Such  men  have  no  fear  of  traditions  however  venerable, 
and  no  respect  for  them  when  they  become  mischievous 
and  obstructive ;  but  they  have  better  than  mere  anti- 
quarian business  in  hand,  and  if  dogmas,  which  ought  to 
be  fossil  but  are  not,  are  not  forced  upon  their  notice, 
they  are  too  happy  to  treat  them  as  non-existent. 

The  hypotheses  respecting  the  origin  of  species  which 
profess  to  stand  upon  a  scientific  basis,  and,  as  such, 
alone  demand  serious  attention,  are  of  two  kinds.  The 
one,  the  '*  special  creation  "  hypothesis,  presumes  every 
species  to  have  originated  from  one  or  more  stocks, 
these  not  being  the  result  of  the  modification  of  any 
other  form  of  living  matter  —  or  arising  by  natural 
agencies — but  being  produced,  as  such,  by  a  super- 
natural creative  act. 

The  other,  the  so-called  "  transmutation "  hypothesis, 
considers  that  all  existing  species  are  the  result  of  the 
modification  of  pre-existing  species,  and  those  of  their 
predecessors,  by  agencies  similar  to  those  which  at  the 
present  day  produce  varieties  and  races,  and  therefore  in 
ah  altogether  natural  way ;  and  it  is  a  probable,  though 
not  a  necessary  consequence  of  this  hypothesis,  that  all 
living  beings  have  arisen  from  a  single  stock.  With 
respect  to  the  origin  of  this  primitive  stock,  or  stocks, 
the  doctrine  of  the  origin  of  species  is  obviously  not 
necessarily  concerned.  The  transmutation  hypothesis, 
for  exailiple,  is  perfectly  consistent  either  with  the  con- 
ception of  a  special  creation  of  the  primitive  germ,  or 


280  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [su 

w^itli  tlie  supposition  of  its  liaving  arisen,  as  a  modiii- 
cation  of  inorganic  matter,  by  natural  causes. 

Tlie  doctrine  of  special  creation  owes  its  existence 
very  largely  to  tlie  supposed  necessity  of  making  science 
accord  with  the  Hebrew  cosmogony  ;  but  it  is  curious 
to  observe  that,  as  the  doctrine  is  at  present  maintained 
by  men  of  science,  it  is  as  hopelessly  inconsistent  with 
the  Hebrew  view  as  any  other  hypothesis. 

If  there  be  any  result  which  has  come  more  clearly 
out  of  geological  investigation  than  another,  it  is,  that 
the  vast  series  of  extinct  animals  and  plants  is  not 
divisible,  as  it  was  once  supposed  to  be,  into  distinct 
groups,  separated  by  sharply-marked  boundaries.  There 
are  no  great  gulfs  between  epochs  and  formations — no 
successive  periods  marked  by  the  appearance  of  plants, 
of  water  animals,  and  of  land  animals,  en  masse.  Every 
year  adds  to  the  list  of  links  between  what  the  older 
geologists  supposed  to  be  widely  separated  epochs  : 
witness  the  craofs  linking;  the  drift  Avith  the  older  ter- 
tiaries ;  the  Maestricht  beds  linking  the  tertiaries  with 
the  chalk ;  the  St.  Cassian  beds  exhibiting  an  abundant 
fauna  of  mixed  mesozoic  and  palaeozoic  types,  in  rocka 
of  an  epoch  once  supposed  to  be  eminently  poor  in  life ; 
witness,  lastly,  the  incessant  disputes  as  to  whether  a 
given  stratum  shall  be  reckoned  devonian  or  carbon- 
iferous, Silurian  or  devonian,  cambrian  or  silurian. 

This  truth  is  further  illustrated  in  a  most  interesting 
manner  by  the  impartial  and  highly  competent  testimony 
of  M.  Pictet  from  whose  calculations  of  what  percentage 
of  the  genera  of  animals,  existing  in  any  formation,  lived 
during  tlie  preceding  formation,  it  results  that  in  no 
case  is  the  proportion  less  than  one-third,  or  33  per 
cent.  It  is  the  triassic  formation,  or  the  commencement 
of  the  mesozoic  epoch,  which  has  received  this  smallest 
inheritance  from  preceding  ages.     The  other  formations 


XII.J  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  281 

not  uncommonly  exhibit  60,  80,  or  even  94  per  cent, 
of  genera  in  common  with  those  whose  remains  are 
imbedded  in  their  predecessor.  Not  only  is  this  true, 
but  the  subdivisions  of  each  formation  exhibit  new 
species  characteristic  of,  and  found  only  in,  them ;  and, 
in  many  cases,  as  in  the  lias  for  example,  the  separate 
beds  of  these  subdivisions  are  distinguished  by  well- 
marked  and  peculiar  forms  of  life.  A  section,  a  hundred 
feet  thick,  will  exhibit,  at  different  heights,  a  dozen 
species  of  ammonite,  none  of  which  passes  beyond  its 
particular  zone  of  limestone,  or  clay,  into  the  zone  below 
it  or  into  that  above  it ;  so  that  those  who  adopt  the 
doctrine  of  special  creation  m^ust  be  prepared  to  admit, 
that  at  intervals  of  time,  corresponding  with  the  thickness 
of  these  beds,  the  Creator  thought  fit  to  interfere  with 
the  natural  course  of  events  for  the  purpose  of  making 
a  new  ammonite.  It  is  not  easy  to  transplant  oneself 
into  the  frame  of  mind  of  those  who  can  accept  such  a 
conclusion  as  this,  on  any  evidence  short  of  absolute 
demonstration ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  what  is  to  be 
gained  by  so  doing,  since,  as  we  have  said,  it  is  obvious 
that  such  a  view  of  the  origin  of  living  beings  is  utterly 
opposed  to  the  Hebrew  cosmogony.  Deserving  no  aid 
from  the  powerful  arm  of  bibliolatry,  then,  does  the 
received  form  of  the  hypothesis  of  special  creation  derive 
any  support  from  science  or  sound  logic  1  Assuredly 
not  much.  The  arguments  brought  forward  in  its  favour 
all  take  one  form  :  If  species  Avere  not  supernaturally 
created,  we  cannot  understand  the  facts  x,  or  y,  or  2; 
we  cannot  understand  the  structure  of  animals  or  plants, 
unless  we  suppose  they  were  contrived  for  special  ends ; 
we  cannot  understand  the  structure  of  the  eye,  except 
by  supposing  it  to  have  been  made  to  see  with ;  we 
cannot  understand  instincts,  unless  we  suppose  animals 
to  have  been  miraculouslv  endowed  with  them. 


282  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii 

As  a  question  of  dialectics,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
fcliis  sort  of  reasoning  is  not  very  formidable  to  those 
who  are  not  to  be  frightened  by  consequences.  It  is  an 
argumentum  ad  ignorantiam — take  this  explanation  or 
be  ignorant.  But  suppose  we  prefer  to  admit  our  igno- 
rance rather  than  adopt  a  hypothesis  a.t  variance  with 
all  the  teachings  of  Nature  ?  Or,  suppose  for  a  moment 
we  admit  the  explanation,  and  then  seriously  ask  our- 
selves how  much  the  wiser  are  we  ;  what  does  the 
explanation  explain  ?  Is  it  any  more  than  a  grandilo- 
quent way  of  announcing  the  fact,  that  we  really  know 
nothicg  a.bout  the  matter  ?  A  phsenomenon  is  explained 
when  it  is  shown  to  be  a  case  of  some  general  law  of 
N^iture ;  but  the  supernatural  interposition  of  the  Creator 
can,  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  exem.plify  no  law,  and  if 
species  have  really  arisen  in  this  way,  it  is  absurd  to 
attempt  to  discuss  their  origin. 

Or,  lastly,  let  us  ask  ourselves  whether  any  amount 
of  evidence  which  the  nature  of  our  faculties  permits  us 
to  attain,  can  justify  us  in  asserting  that  any  phseno- 
menon  is  out  of  the  reach  of  natural  causation.  To  this 
end  it  is  obviously  necessary  that  we  should  know  all 
the  consequences  to  which  all  possible  combinations, 
continued  through  unlimited  time,  can  give  rise.  If  we 
knew  these,  and  found  none  competent  to  originate 
species,  we  should  have  good  ground  for  denying  their 
origin  by  natural  causation.  Till  we  know  them,  any 
hypothesis  is  better  than  one  which  involves  us  in  such 
miserable  presumption. 

But  the  hypothesis  of  sj)ecial  creation  is  not  only  a 
mxcre  specious  mask  for  our  ignorance ;  its  existence  in 
Biology  marks  the  youth  and  imperfection  of  the  science. 
For  what  is  the  history  of  every  science  but  the  his- 
tory of  the  elimination  of  the  notion  of  creative,  or 
other  interferences,  with  the  natural  order  of  the  phseno- 


Ell.]  TEE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIES.  283 

niena  wliicli  are  the  subject-matter  of  tliat  science'? 
When  Astronomy  Avas  young  ^'the  morning  stars  sang 
together  for  joy,"  and  the  planets  were  guided  in  their 
courses  by  celestial  hands.  Now,  the  harmony  of  the 
stars  has  resolved  itself  into  gravitation  according  to 
the  inverse  squares  of  the  distances,  and  the  orbits  of 
the  planets  are  deducible  from  the  laws  of  the  forces 
which  alJow  a  schoolboy's  stone  to  break  a  window. 
The  lightning  was  the  angel  of  the  Lord  ;  but  it  has 
pleased  Providence,  in  these  modern  times,  that  science 
should  make  it  the  humble  messenger  of  man,  and  we 
know  that  every  flash  that  shimmers  about  the  horizon 
on  a  summer's  evening  is  determined  by  ascertainable 
conditions,  and  that  its  direction  and  brightness  might, 
if  our  knowledge  of  these  were  great  enough,  have  been 
calculated. 

The  solvency  of  great  mercantile  companies  rests  on 
the  validity  of  the  laws  which  have  been  ascertained 
to  govern  the  seeming  irregularity  of  that  human  life 
which  the  moralist  bewails  as  the  most  uncertain  of 
things ;  plague,  pestilence,  and  famine  are  admitted,  by 
all  but  fools,  to  be  the  natural  result  of  causes  for  the 
most  part  fully  within  human  control,  and  not  the 
unavoidable  tortures  inflicted  by  wrathful  Omnipotence 
upon  his  helpless  handiwork. 

Harmonious  order  governing  eternally  continuous 
progress — the  web  and  woof  of  matter  and  force  inter- 
weaving by  slow  degrees,  without  a  broken  thread,  that 
veil  which  lies  between  us  and  the  Infinite— that 
universe  which  alone  we  know  or  can  know  ;  such  is 
the  picture  which  science  draws  of  the  world,  and  in 
proportion  as  any  part  of  that  picture  is  in  unison  with 
the  rest,  so  may  we  feel  sure  that  it  is  rightly  painted. 
Shall  Biology  alone  remain  out  of  harmony  with  her 
sister  sciences  ? 


284  l^T  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii. 

Siicli  arguments  against  the  liypotliesis  of  the  direct 
creation  of  species  as  these  are  pLainly  enough  cleducible 
from  general  considerations ;  but  there  are,  in  addition, 
phaenomena  exhibited  by  species  themselves,  and  yet 
not  so  much  a  part  of  their  very  es=-:ence  as  to  have 
required  earlier  mention,  which  are  in  the  highest  degree 
perplexing,  if  we  adopt  the  popularly  accepted  hypo- 
thesis. Such  are  the  facts  of  distribution  in  space  and 
in  time  ;  the  singular  phsenomena  brought  to  light  by 
the  study  of  development ;  the  structural  relations  of 
species  upon  .which  our  systems  of  classification  are 
found^ed ;  the  great  doctrines  of  philosophical  anatomy, 
such  as  that  of  homology,  or  of  the  community  of 
structural  plan  exhibited  by  large  groups  of  species 
differing  very  widely  in  their  habits  and  functions. 

The  species  of  anim^als  which  inhabit  the  sea  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  isthmus  of  Panama  are  wholly 
distinct ;  ^  the  animals  and  plants  which  inhabit  islands 
are  commonly  distinct  from  those  of  the  neighbouring 
mainlands,  and  yet  have  a  similarity  of  aspect.  The 
mammals  of  the  latest  tertiary  epoch  in  the  Old  and 
New  Worlds  belong  to  the  same  genera,  or  family 
groups,  as  those  which  now  inhabit  the  same  great 
geographical  area.  The  crocodilian  reptiles  w^hich  existed 
in  the  earliest  secondary  epoch  were  similar  in  general 
structure  to  those  now  living,  but  exhibit  slight  differ- 
ences in  their  vertebrse,  nasal  passages,  and  one  or  two 
other  points.  The  guinea-pig  has  teeth  which  are  shed 
]3efore  it  is  born,  and  hence  can  never  subserve  the 
masticatory  purpose  for  which  they  seem  contrived,  and, 
in  like  manner,  the  female  dugong  has  tusks  which 
never  cut  the  gum.  All  the  members  of  the  same 
great   group   run   through    similar   conditions    in    their 

1  Eecent  investigations  tend  to  show  that  this  statement  is  not  strictlj 
accurate. — 1870. 


Ku.]  .     TEE  OllIGII^  OF  SPECIES,  28i> 

development,  and  all  tlieir  parts,  in  the  adult  state,  are 
arranged  according  to  tlie  same  plan.  Man  is  more  like 
a  gorilla  than  a  gorilla  is  like  a  lemur.  Such  are  a  few, 
taken  at  random,  among  the  multitudes  of  similar  facts 
which  modern  research  has  established  ;  but  when  the 
student  seeks  for  an  explanation  of  them  from  the  sup- 
porters of  the  received  hypothesis  of  the  origin  of  species, 
the  reply  he  receives  is,  in  substance,  of  Oriental  sim- 
plicity and  brevity — "Mashallah!  it  so  pleases  God!^' 
There  are  difierent  species  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
isthmus  of  Panama,  because  they  were  created  different 
on  the  two  sides.  The  pliocene  mammals  are  like  th^ 
existing  ones,  because  such  was  the  plan  of  creation ; 
and  we  find  rudimental  organs  and  similarity  of  plan, 
because  it  has  pleased  the  Creator  to  set  before  himself 
a  "  divine  exemplar  or  archetype,"  and  to  copy  it  in  his 
works ;  and  somewhat  ill,  those  who  hold  this  view 
imply,  in  some  of  them.  That  such  verbal  hocus-pocus 
should  be  received  as  science  will  one  day  be  regarded 
as  evidence  of  the  low  state  of  intelligence  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  just  as  we  amuse  ourselves  with  the 
phraseology  about  Nature^s  abhorrence  of  a  vacuum, 
wherewith  Torricelli's  compatriots  were  satisfied  to 
explain  the  rise  of  water  in  a  pump.  And  be  it  recol- 
lected that  this  sort  of  satisfaction  Avorks  not  only 
negative  but  positive  ill,  by  discouraging  inquiry,  and 
so  depriving  man  of  the  usufruct  of  one  of  the  most 
fertile  fields  of  his.  great  patrimony.  Nature. 

The  objections  to  the  doctrine  of  the  origin  of  species 
by  special  creation  which  have  been  detailed,  must  have 
occurred,  with  more  or  less  force,,  to  the  mind  of  every 
one  who  has  seriously  and  independently  considered  the 
subject.  It  is  therefore  no  wonder  that,  from  time  to 
time,  this  hypothesis  should  have  been  met  by  counter 
hypotheses,  all  as  well,  and  some  better,  founded  than 


286  l^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REFIEfFS.  [xii 

itseii ;  and  it  is  curious  to  remark  tliat  tlie  inventors  of 
the  opposing  views  seem  to  liave  been  led  into  them 
as  much  by  their  knowledge  of  geology,  as  by  their 
acquaintance  with  biology.  In  fact,  when  the  mind  has 
once  admitted  the  conception  of  the  gradual  production 
of  the  present  physical  state  of  our  globe,  by  natural 
causes  operating  through  long  ages  of  time,  it  will  be 
little  disposed  to  allow  tliat  living  beings  have  made 
their  appearance  in  another  way,  and  the  speculations  of 
De  Maillet  and  his  successors  are  the  natural  complement 
of  Scilla  s  demonstration  of  the  true  nature  of  fossils. 

A  contemporary  of  Newton  and  of  Leibnitz,  sharing 
therefore  in  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  remarkable 
age  which  witnessed  the  birth  of  modern  physical 
science,  Benoit  de  Maillet  spent  a  long  life  as  a  consular 
aofent  of   the  French  Government  in  various  Mediter- 

o 

ranean  ports.  For  sixteen  years,  in  fact,  he  held  the 
oiSce  of  Consul- General  in  Egypt,  and  the  wonderful 
phenomena  offered  by  the  valley  of  the  Nile  appear  to 
have  strongly  impressed  his  mind,  to  have  directed  his 
attention  to  all  facts  of  a  similar  order  which  came  within 
his  observation,  and  to  have  led  him  to  speculate  on  the 
origin  of  the  present  condition  of  our  globe  and  of  its 
inhabitants.  But,  with  all  his  ardour  for  science,  De 
Maillet  seems  to  have  hesitated  to  publish  views  which, 
notwithstanding  the  ingenious  attempts  to  reconcile 
them  with  the  Hebrew  hypothesis,  contained  in  the 
preface  to  "  Telliamed,"  were  hardly  likely  to  be  received 
with  favour  by  his  contemporaries. 

But  a  short 'time  had  elapsed  since  more  than  one  of 
the  great  anatomists  and  physicists  of  the  Italian  school 
had  paid  dearly  for  their  eiideavours  to  dissipate  s  ome  of 
the  prevalent  errors  ;  and  their  illustrious  pupil,  Harvey, 
the  founder  of  modern  physiology,  had  not  fared  so  well, 
in  a  country  less  oppressed  by  the  benumbing  influences 


XII.]  .     THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  287 

of  tlicology,  as  to  tempt  any  man  to  follow  his  example. 
Probably  not  uninfluenced  by  these  considerations,  his 
Catholic  majesty's  Consul-General  for  Egypt  kept  his 
theories  to  himself  throughout  a  long  life,  for  "  Telli- 
amed,"  the  only  scientific  work  which  is  known  to  have 
proceeded  from  his  pen,  was  not  printed  till  1735,  when 
its  author  had  reached  the  ripe  age  of  seventy-nine  ;  and 
though  De  Maillet  lived  three  years  longer,  his  book  was 
not  given  to  the  world  before  1748.  Even  then  it  was 
anonymous  to  those  who  were  not  in  the  secret  of  the 
anagram atic  character  of  its  title  ;  and  the  preface  and 
dedication  are  so  worded  as,  m  case  of  necessity,  to  give 
the  printer  a  fair  chance  of  falling  back  on  the  excuse 
that  the  work  was  intended  for  a  mere  jeu  dJ esprit. 

The  speculations  of  the  supposititious  Indian  sage, 
though  quite  as  sound  as  those  of  many  a  "  Mosaic 
Geology,''  which  sells  exceedingly  well,  have"~'~no  great 
"value  if  we  consider  them  by  the  light  of  modern 
science.  The  waters  are  supposed  to  have  originally 
covered  the  whole  globe ;  to  have  deposited  the  rocky 
masses  which  compose  its  mountains  by  processes  com- 
parable to  those  which  are  now  forming  mud,  sand,  and 
shingle  ;  and  then  to  have  gradually  lowered  their  level, 
leaving  the  spoils  of  their  animal  and  vegetable  inhabi- 
tants embedded  in  the  strata.  As  the  dry  land  appeared, 
certain  of  the  aquatic  animals  are  supposed  to  have 
taken  to  it,  and  to  have  become  gradually  adapted  to 
terrestrial  and  aerial  modes  of  existence.  But  if  we 
rega^rd  the  general  tenor  and  style  of  the  reasoning  in 
relation  to  the  .  state  of  knowledge  of  the  day,  two 
circumstances  appear  very  well  worthy  of  remark.  The 
first,  that  De  Maillet  had  a  notion  of  the  modifiability  of 
living  forms  (though  without  any  precise  information  on 
the  subject),  and  how  such  modifiability  might  account 
for   the   origin  of   species ;    the    second,    that   he   verj/ 


23 8  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii 

clearly  appreliended  tlie  great  modern  geological  doc- 
trine, so  strongly  insisted  upon  by  Huttpn,  and  so 
ably  and  compreliensively  expounded  by  Lyell,  that  we 
must  look  to  existing  causes  for  the  explanatioi;  of  past 
geological  events.  Indeed,  the  following  passage  of  the 
preface,  in  which  De  Maillet  is  supposed  to  speak  of  the 
Indian  philosopher  Telliamed,  his  alter  ego,  might  have 
been  written  by  the  most  philosophical  uniformitarian  of 
the  present  day  : — 

"  Ce  qii'il  y  a  d'etonnant,  est  que  pour  arriver  a  ces  connoissances 
il  seni"ble  avoir  perverti  I'ordre  naturel,  puisqu'au  lieu  de  s'attacher 
d'abord  a  reclierclier  rorigine  de  notre  globe  il^a  commence  par 
travailler  a  s'instruire  de  la  nature.  Mais  a  I'entendre,  ce  renverse- 
ment  de  I'ordre  a  ete  ]D0ur  lui  I'effet  d'un  genie  favorable  qui  I'a 
conduit  pas  a  pas  et  comme  par  la  main  aux  decouvertes  les  plus 
sublimes.  C'est  en  decomposant  la  substance  de  ce  globe  par  une 
anatomic  exacte  de  toutes  ses  parties  qu'il  a  premierement  appris  de 
quelles  matieres  il  etait  compose  et  quels  arrangemens  ces  memes 
matieres  observaient  entre  elles.  Ces  lumieres  jointes  a  Vesprit  de 
comparaison  toujours  necessaire  a  quiconque  entreprend  de  percer  les 
voiles  dont  la  nature  aime  a  se  cacber,  ont  servi  de  guide  a  notre 
pbilosopbe  pour  parvenir  a  des  connoissances  plus  interessantes.  Par 
la  matiere  et  I'arrangement  de  ces  compositions  il  pretend  avoir 
reconnu  quelle  est  la  veritable  origine  de  ce  globe  que  nous  habitons, 
comment  et  par  qui  il  a  ete  forme." — Pp.  xix.  xx. 

But  De  Maillet  was  before  his  age,  and  as  could 
hardly  fail  to  happen  to  one  who  speculated  on  a  zoolo- 
gical and  botanical  question  before  Linnaeus,  and  on  a 
physiological  problem  before  Haller,  he  fell  into  great 
errors  here  and  there  ;  and  hence,  perhaps,  the  general 
nedect  of  his  work.  Eobinet's  speculations  are  rather 
behind,  than  in  advance  of,  those  of  De  Maillet ;  and 
though  Linnoeus  may  have  played  with  the  hypothesis 
of  transmutation,  it  obtained  no  serious  support  until 
Lamarck  adopted  it,  and  advocated  it  with  great  ability 
in  his  "  Philosophic  Zoologique." 

Impelled  towards  the  hypothesis  of  the  transmutation 


xiij  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES.  289 

of  species,  partly  by  liis  general  cosmological  and  geolo- 
gical views ;  partly  by  the  conception  of  a  graduated, 
though  irregularly  branching,  scale  of  being,  which  had 
arisen  out  of  his  profound  study  of  plants  and  of  the 
lower  forms  of  animal  life,  Lamarck,  whose  general  line 
of  thought  often  -closely  resembles  that  of  De  Maillet, 
made  a  great  advance  upon  the  crude  and  merely  specu- 
lative manner  in  which  that  writer  deals  with  the  ques- 
tion of  the  origin  of  living  beings,  by  endeavouring  to 
find  physical  causes  competent  to  effect  that  change  of 
one  species  into  another,  which  De  Maillet  had  only 
supposed  to  occur.  And  Lamarck  conceived  that  he 
had  found  in  Nature  such  causes,  amply  sufficient  for  the 
purpose  in  view.  It  is  a  physiological  fact,  he  says,  that 
organs  are  increased  in  sise  by  action,  atrophied  by 
inaction ;  it  is  another  physiological  fact  that  modifica- 
tions produced  are  transmissible  to  offspring.  Change 
the  actions  of  an  animal,  therefore,  and  you  will  change 
its  structure,  by  increasing  the  development  of  the  parts 
newly  brought  into  use  and  by  the  diminution  of  those 
less  used ;  but  by  altering  the  circumstances  which 
surround  it  you  will  alter  its  actions,  and  hence,  in  the 
long  run,  change  of  circumstance  must  produce  change 
of  organization.  All  the  species  of*'  animals,  therefore, 
are,  in  Lamarck's  view,  the  result  of  the  indirect  action 
of  changes  of  circumstance  upon  those  primitive  germs 
•which  he  considered  to  have  originally  arisen,  by  spon- 
taneous generation,  within  the  waters  of  the  globe.  It 
is  curious,  however,  that  Lamarck  should  insist  so 
strongly^  as  he  has  done,  that  circumstances  never  in 
any  degree  directly  modify  the  form  or  the  organization 
of  animals,  but  only  operate  by  changing  their  wants 
and  consequently  their  actions  ;  for  .he  thereby  brings 
upon  himself  the  obvious  question,  how,  then,  clo  plants, 

^  See  Phil.  Zoologique,  vol,  i.  p.  222,  et  seq. 


290  1-41"  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  Ki: 

wliicli  cannot  be  said  to  hay-e  wants  or  actions,  become 
modified'?  To  this  ^be  replies,  tliat  tliey  are  modified 
by  the  changes  in  their  nutritive  processes,  which  are 
effected  by  changing  circumstances ;  and  it  does  not 
seem  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  such  changes  might 
be  as  well  supposed  to  take  place  among  animals. 

When  we  have  said  that  Lamarck  felt  that  mere 
specidation  was  not  the  way  to  arrive  at  the  origin  of 
"species,  but  that  it  was  necessary,  in  order  t-o  the  estab- 
lishment of  any  sound  theory  on  the  subject,  to  discover 
by  observation  or  otherwise,  some  vera  causa,  competent 
to  give  rise  to  them ;  that  he  affirmed  the  true  order  of 
classification  to  coincide  with  the  order  of  their  develop- 
ment one  from  another  ;  that  he  insisted  on  the  necessity 
of  allowing  sufficient  time,  very  strongly ;  and  that  all 
the  varieties  of  instinct  and  reason  were  traced  back  by 
him  to  the  same  cause  as  that  which  has  given  rise  to 
species,  we  have  enumerated  his  chief  contributions  to 
the  advance  of  the  question.  On  the  other  hand,  from 
his  ignorance  of  any  poAver  in  Nature  competent  to 
modify  the  structure  of  animals,  except  the  development 
of  parts,  or  atrophy  of  them,  in  consequence  of  a  change 
of  needs,  Lamarck  was  led  to  attach  infinitely  greater 
weight  than  it  deserves  to  this  agency,  and  the  absur- 
dities into  which  he  was  led  have  met  with  deserved 
condemnation.  Of  the  struggle  for  existence,  on  which, 
as,  we  shall  see,  Mr.  Darwin  lays  such  great  stress,  he  had 
no  conception ;  indeed,  he  doubts  whether  there  really 
are  such  things  as  extinct  species,  unless  they  be  such 
large  animals  as  may  have  met  their  death  at  the  hands 
of  man ;  and  so  little  does  he  dream  of  there  being  any 
other  destructive  causes  at  work,  that,  in  discussing 
the  possible  existence  of  fossil  shells,  he  asks,  "  Pourquoi 
d'ailleurs  seroient-ils  perdues  des  que  Thomme  n'a  pu 
operer  leur  destruction?"     (Phil.   ZooL,   vol.    i.  p.  77.) 


XIl]  the  OkiGIN  OF  SPECIES.  291 

Of  the  influence  of  selection  Lamarck  Las  as  little 
notion,,  and  He  makes  ho  use  of  the  wonderful  phceno- 
niena  which  are  exhibited  by  domesticated  animals,  and 
illustrate  its  powers.  The  vast  influence  of  Cuvier  was 
employed  against  the  Lamarckian  views,  and,  as  the 
untenability  of  some  of  his  conclusions  was  easily 
shown,  his  doctrines  sank  under  the  ojoprobium  of 
scientific,  as  well  as  of  theological,  heterodoxy.  Nor 
have  the  efforts  made  of  late  years  to  revive  them 
tended  to  re-establish  their  credit  in  the  minds  of  sound 
thinkers  acquainted  with  the  facts  of  the  case  ;  indeed 
it  may  be  doubted  whether  Lamarck  has  not  suffered 
more  from  his  friends  than  from  his  foes. 

Two  years  ago,  in  fact,  though  we  venture  to  question 
if  even  the  strongest  supporters  of  the  special  creation 
hypothesis  had  not,  now  and  then,  an  uneasy  conscious- 
ness that  all  was  not  right,  their  position  seemed  more 
impregnable  than  ever,  if  not  by  its  own  inherent  strength, 
at  any  rate  by  the  obvious  failure  of  all  the  attempts 
which  had  been  made  to  ca'rry  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
however  much  the  few,  who  thought  deeply  on  the 
question  of  species,  might  be  repelled  by  the  generally 
received  dogmas,  they  saw  no  way  of  escaping  from 
them,  save  by  the  adoption  of  suppositions,  so  little  jus- 
tified by  experiment  or  by  observation,  as  to  be  at  least 
equally  distasteful. 

The  choice  lay  between  two  absurdities  and  a  middle 
condition  of  uneasy  scepticism ;  which  last,  however 
unpleasant  and  unsatisfactory,  was  obviously  the  only 
justifiable  state  of  mind  under  the  circumstances. 

Such  being  the  general  ferment  in  the  minds  of 
naturalists,  it  is  no  wonder  that  they  mustered  strong  in 
the  rooms  of  the  Linnsean  Society,  on  the  1st  of  July  of 
the  year  1858,  to  hear  two  papers  by  authors  living 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  globe,  working  out  their  results 


292  Ur  SEJLMOXS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  'REVIEWS,  [xii, 

iiiclepenclently,  and  yet  professing  to  have  discovered  onG 
and  the  same  solution  of  all  the  problems  connected  with 
Bpecies.  The  one  of  these  authors  was  an  able  naturalist, 
Mr.  Wallace,  who  had  been  employed  for  some  years  in 
studying  the  productions  of  the  islands  of  the  Indian 
Archipelago,  and  who  had  forwarded  a  memoir  embody- 
ino;  his  views  to  Mr.  Darwin,  for  communication  to  the 
Linnsean  Society.  On  perusing  the  essay,  Mr.  Darwin 
was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  it  embodied  some 
of  the  leading  ideas  of  a  great  work  which  he  had  been 
preparing  for  twenty  years,  and  parts  of  which,  contain- 
ing a  development  of  the  very  same  views,  had  been 
perused  by  his  private  friends  fifteen  or  sixteen  years 
before.  Perplexed  in  what  manner  to  do  full  justice 
both  to  his  friend  and  to  himself,  Mr.  Darwin  placed 
the  matter  in  the  hands  of  Dr.  Hooker  and  Sir  Charles 
L3^ell,  by  whose  advice  he  communicated  a  brief  abstract 
of  his  own  views  to  the  Linnsean  Society,  at  the  same 
time  that  ]Mr.  Wallace's  paper  was  read.  Of  that  abstract, 
the  work  on  the  "  Origin  of  Species  "  is  an  enlargement : 
but  a  complete  statement  of  Mr.  Darwin's  doctrine  is 
looked  for  in  the  laro;e  and  well-illustrated  work  which 
he  is  said  to  be  preparing  for  publication. 

The  Darwinian  hypothesis  has  the  merit  of  being 
eminently  simple  and  comprehensible  in  principle,  and 
its  essential  positions  may  be  stated  in  a  very  few 
words  :  all  species  have  been  produced  by  the  develop- 
ment of  varieties  from  common  stocks  by  the  conversion 
of  these  first  into  permanent  races  and  then  into  new 
species,  by  the  process  of  natural  selection,  which 
process  is  essentially  identical  with  that  artificial  selec- 
tion by  which  man  has  originated  the  races  of  domestic 
animals — the  struggle  for  existence  taking  the  place 
of  man,  and  exerting,  in  the  case  of  natural  seleQticm, 


XII.]  THE  ORIGIN'  OF  SPECIES,  293 

that  selective  action  wliicli  he  performs  in  artificial 
selection. 

The  evidence  brought  forward  by  Mr.  Darwin  in 
support  of  his  hypothesis  is  of  three  kinds.  Fiist,  he 
endeavours  to  prove  that  species  may  be  originated  by 
selection  ;  secondly,  he  attempts  to  show  that  natural 
causes  are  competent  to  exert  selection  ;  and  thirdly,  he 
tries  to  prove  that  the  most  remarkable  and  apparently 
anomalous  phenomena  exhibited  by  the  distribution,  de- 
velopment, and  mutual  relations  of  species,  can  be  shown 
to  be  deducible  from  the  general  doctrine  of  their  orioin, 
which  he  propounds,  combined  with  the  known  facts  of 
geological  change  ;  and  that,  even  if  all  these  phsenomena 
are  not  at  present  explicable  by  it,  none  are  necessarily 
inconsistent  with  it. 

There  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  the  method  of  inquiry 
which  Mr.  Darwin  has  adopted  is  not  only  rigorously  in 
accordance  with  the  canons  of  scientific  logic,  but  that  it 
is  the  only  adequate  method.  Critics  exclusively  trained 
in  classics  or  in  mathematics,  w'ho  have  never  determined  a 
scientific  fact  in  their  lives  by  induction  from  experiment 
or  observation,  prate  learnedly  about  Mr.  Darw^in's 
method,  which  is  not  inductive  enough,  not  Baconian 
enough,  forsooth,  for  them.  But  even  if  practical  ac- 
quaintance W'ith  the  process  of  scientific  investigation  is 
denied  them,  they  may  learn,  by  the  perusal  of  Mr. 
Mill's  admirable  chapter  "  On  the  Deductive  Method," 
that  there  are  multitudes  of  scientific  inquiries,  in  which 
the  method  of  pure  induction  helps  the  investigator  but 
a  very  little  way, 

"The  mode  of  investigation,"  says  Mr.  ]\Iil],  "which,  from  the 
proved  inapplicahility  of  direct  methods  of  observation  and  experi- 
ment, remains  to  us  as  the  main  source  of  the  knowledge  we  possess, 
or  can  acquire,  respecting  the  conditions  and  laws  of  recurrence  of  the 
more  complex  phsenomena,  is  called,  in  its  most  general  expression. 


294  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  UEVIEWB.  [siL 

the  deductive  method,  and  consists  of  three  operations :  the  first,  one 
of  direct  induction;  the  second,  of  ratiocination;  and  the  third,  of 
verification." 


Now,  tlie  conditions  "wliicli  have  cletermined  tlie  ex- 
istence of  species  are  not  only  exceedingly  complex, 
but,  so  far  as  tlie  great  majority  of  tliem  are  concerned, 
are  necessarily  beyond  our  cognizance.  But  what  Mr. 
Darwin  has  attempted  to  do  is  in  exact  accordance  with 
the  rule  laid  down  by  Mr.  Mill ;  he  has  endeavoured  to 
determine  certain  great  facts  inductively,  by  observation 
and  experiment ;  he  has  then  reasoned  from  the  data 
thus  furnished;  and  lastly,  he  has  tested  the  validity  of 
his  ratiocination  by  comparing  his  deductions  with  the 
observed  facts  of  Nature.  Inductively,  Mr.  Darwin  en- 
deavours to  prove  that  species  arise  in  a  given  way. 
Deductively,  he  desires  to  show  that,  if  they  arise  in  that 
way,  the  facts  of  distribution,  development,  classification, 
&c.,  may  be  accounted  for,  i.e.  may  be  deduced  from 
their  mode  of  orio^in,  combined  with  admitted  changes  in 
physical  geography  and  climate,  during  an  indefinite 
period.  And  this  explanation,  or  coincidence  of  observed 
with  deduced  facts,  is,  so  far  as  it  extends,  a  verification 
of  the  Darwinian  view. 

There  is  no  fault  to  be  found  with  Mr.  Darwin's 
method,  then ;  but  it  is  another  question  whether  he  has 
fulfilled  all  the  conditions  imposed  by  that  method.  Is 
it  satisfactorily  proved,  in  fact,  that  species  may  be 
originated  by  selection?  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
natural  selection  ?  that  none  of  the  phgsnomena  exhibited 
by  species  are  inconsistent  with  the  origin  of  species  in  this 
way  ?  If  these  questions,  can  be  answered  in  the  afiirm- 
ative,  Mr.  Darwin's  view  steps  out  of  the  ranks  of  hypo- 
theses into  those  of  proved  theories ;  but,  so  long  as  the 
evidence  at  present  adduced  falls  short  of  enforcing  that 


£11.]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIES.  295 

affirmation,  so  long,  to  onr  minds,  must  tlie  new  doctrine 
be  content  to  remain  among  the  former — an  extremely 
valuable,  and  in  tlie  highest  degree  probable,  doctrine, 
indeed  the  only  extant  hypothesis  which  is  Avorth  any- 
thing in  a  scientific  point  of  view  ;  but  still  a  hypothesis, 
and  not  yet  the  theory  of  species. 

After  much  consideration,  and  with  assuredly  no  bias 
as^ainst  Mr.  Darwin's  views,  it  is  our  clear  conviction 
that,  as  the  evidence  stands,  it  is  not  absolutely  proven 
that  a  group  of  animals,  having  all  the  characters  exhi- 
bited by  species  in  Nature,  has  ever  been  originated  by 
selection,  whether  artificial  or  natural.  G-roups  having 
the  morphological  character  of  species,  distinct  and  per- 
manent races  in  fact,  have  been  so  produced  over  and 
over  again ;  but  there  is  no  positive  evidence,  at  present, 
that  any  group  of  animals  has,  by  variation  and  selective 
breeding,  given  rise  to  another  group  which  was  even  in 
the  least  degree  infertile  with  the  first.  Mr.  Darwin  is 
perfectly  aware  of  this  weak  point,  and  brings  forward  a 
multitude  of  ingenious  and  important  arguments  to  di- 
minish the  force  of  the  objection.  We  admit  the  value 
of  these  arguments  to  their  fullest  extent ;  nay,  we  will 
go  so  far  as  to  express  our  belief  that  experiments,  con- 
ducted by  a  skilful  physiologist,  would  very  probably 
obtain  the  desired  production  of  mutually  more  or  less 
infertile  breeds  from  a  common  stock,  in  a  comparatively 
few  years ;  but  still,  as  the  case  stands  at  present,  this 
"little  rift  within  the  lute '\ is  not  to  be  disguised  nor 
overlooked. 

In  the  remainder  of  Mr.  Darwin's  argument  our  ot\t3. 
private  ingenuity  has  not  hitherto  enabled  us  to  pick 
holes  of  any  great  importance ;  and  judging  by  what  we 
hear  and  read,  other  adventurers  in  the  same  field  do  not 
seem  to  have  been  much  more  fortunate.  It  has  been 
urged,  for  instance,  that  in  his  chapters  on  the  struggle 


296  i^-^i'  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii. 

for  existence  and  on  natural  selection,  Mr.  Darwin  does 
not  so  mncli  prove  tliat  natural  selection  does  occur,  as 
tliat  it  must  occur ;  but,  in  fact,  no  other  sort  of  demonstra- 
tion is  attainable.  A  race  does  not  attract  our  attention 
in  ISTature  until  it  has,  in  all  probability,  existed  for  a 
considerable  time,  and  then  it  is  too  late  to  inquire  into 
the  conditions  of  its  origin.  Again,  it  is  said  that  there 
is  no  real  analogy  between  the  selection  which  takes 
place  under  domestication,  by  human  influence,  and  any 
operation  which  can  be  eifected  by  Nature,  for  man  inter- 
feres intelligently.  Reduced  to  its.  elements,  this  argu- 
ment implies  that  an  effect  produced  with  trouble  by  an 
intelligent  agent  imxBt,  a  fortiori,  be  more  troublesome,  if 
not  impossible,  to  an  unintelligent  agent.  Even  putting 
aside  the  question  whether  Nature,  acting  as  she  does 
according  to  definite  and  invariable  laws,  can  be  rightly 
called  an  unintelligent  agent,  such  a  position  as  this  is 
wholly  untenable.  Mix  salt  and  sand,  and  it  shall  puzzle 
the  wisest  of  men,  with  his  mere  natural  appliances,  to 
separate  all  the  grains  of  sand  from  all  the  grains  of  salt ; 
but  a  shower  of  rain  will  effect  the  same  object-  in  ten 
minutes.  And  so,  while  man  may  find  it  tax  all  his  in- 
telligence to  separate  any  variety  which  arises,  and  to 
breed  selectively  from  it,  the  destructive  agencies  inces- 
santly at  wor]^  in  Nature,  if  they  find  one  variety  to  be 
more  soluble  in  circumstances  than  the  other,  will  inevit- 
ably, in  the  long  run,  eliminate  it. 

A  frequent  and  a  just  objection  to  the  Lamarcldan 
hypothesis  of  the  transmutation  of  species  is  based  upon 
the  absence  of  transitional  forms  between  many  species. 
But  against  the  Darwinian  hypothesis  this  argument  has 
no  force.  Indeed,  one  of  the  most  valuable  and  sugges- 
tive parts  of  Mr.  Darwin's  work  is  that  in  which  he 
proves,  that  the  frequent  absence  of  transitions  is  a  ne- 
cessary consequence  of  his  doctrine,  and  that  the  stock 


xiL]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES,  297 

whence  two  or  more  species  have  sprung,  need  in  no 
respect  .be  intermediate  between  these  species.  If  any 
two  species  have  arisen  from  a  common  stock  in  the  same 
way  as  the  carrier  and  the  pouter,  say,  have  arisen  from 
the  rock-pigeon,  then  the  common  stock  of  these  two 
species  need  be  no  more  intermediate  between  the  two 
than  the  rock-pigeon  is  between  the  carrier  and  pouter. 
Clearly  appreciate  the  force  of  this  analogy,  and  all  the 
arguments  against  the  origin  of  species  by  selection,  based 
on  the  absence  of  transitional  forms,  fall  to  the  ground. 
And  Mr.  Darwin's  position  might,  we  think,  have  been 
even  stronger  than  it  is  if  he  had  not  embarrassed  himself 
with  the  aphorism,  "  NaHira  noii  facit  saltum/'  which 
turns  up  so  often  in  his  pages.  We  believe,  as  we  have 
said  above,  that  Nature  does  make  jumps  now  and  then, 
and  a  recognition  of  the  fact  is  of  no  small  importance 
in  disposing  of  many  minor  objections  to  the  doctrine 
of  transmutation.  ^^ 

But  we  must  pause.  The  discussion  of  Mr.  Darwin's 
arguments  in  detail  would  lead  us  fai  beyond  the  limits 
within  which  we  proposed,  at  starting,  to  confine  this 
article.  Our  object  has  been  attained  if  we  have  given 
an  intelligible,  however  brief,  account  of  the  established 
facts  connected  with  species,  and  of  the  relation  of  the 
explanation  of  those  facts  offered  by  Mr.  Darwin  to  the 
theoretical  views  held  by  his  predecessors  and  his  con- 
temporaries, and,  above  all,  to  the  requirements  of  scien- 
tific logic.  We  have  ventured  to  point  out  that  it  does 
not,  as  yet,  satisfy  all  those  requirements ;  but  we  do  not 
"Hesitate  to  assert  that  it  is  as  superior  to  any  preceding 
or  contemporary  hyjDothesis,  in  the  extent  of  observational 
and  experimental  basis  on  which  it  rests,  in  its  rigorously 
scientific  method,  and  in  its  power  of  explaining  biolo- 
gical phsenomena,  as  was  the  hypothesis  of  Copernicus  to 
tne  speculations  of  Ptolemy.     But  the  planetary  orbits 


298  LAT  SERMONS,  m.  WRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xii. 

turned  out  to  be  not  quite  circular  after  all,  and,  grand 
as  was  tlie  service  Copernicus  rendered  to  science,  Kepler 
and  Newton  had  to  come  after  liim.  AYhat  if  tlie  orbit 
of  Darwinism  should  be  a  little  too  circular  \  What  if 
species  should  offer  residual  phsenom.ena,  here  and  there, 
not  explicable  by  natural  selection  1  Twenty  years  hence 
naturalists  may  be  in  a  position  to  say  wli  other  this  is,  or 
is  not,  the  case ;  but  in  eithe.r  event  they  will  owe  the 
author  of  "The  Origin  of  Spacies"  an  immense  debt  of 
gratitude.  We  should  leave  a  very  wrong  impression  on 
the  reader's  mind  if  we  permitted  him  to  suppose  that 
the  value  of  that  work  depends  wholly  on  the  ultimate 
justification  of  the  theoretical  views  which  it  contains. 
On  the  contrary,  if  they  were  disproved  to-morrow,  the 
book  would  still  be  the  best  of  its  kind — the  most  com- 
pendious statement  of  well-sifted  facts  bearing  on  the 
doctrine  of  species  that  has  ever  appeared.  The  chapters 
on  Variation,  on  the  Struggle  for  Existence,  on  Instinct, 
on  Hybridism,  on  the  Imperfection  of  the  Geological 
Eecord,  on  Geographical  Distribution,  have  not  only  no 
equals,  but,  so  far  as  our  knowledge  goes,  no  competitors, 
within  the  range  of  biological  literature.  And  viewed  as 
a  whole,  we  do  not  believe  that,  since  the  publication  of 
Von  Baer  s  Eesearches  on  Development,  thirty  years  ago, 
any  work  has  appeared  calculated  to  exert  so  large  an 
influence,  not  only  on  the  future  of  Biology,  but  in  ex- 
tending the  domination  of  Science  over  regions  of  thought 
into  wliich  she  has,  as  yet,  hardlv  nenetrated. 


XIIl. 

CEITICISMS  ON  "  THE  OEIGIN  OF  SPECIES." 

i.    XJeber   die  Darwin'sche   Schopfungstheorie  ;   Ei:^f  Yortraq,  von 
A.  KoLLiKER.     Leipzig,  1864. 

2.  Examination  du  Livre  de  M.  Darwin  sur  l'Origine  des  Especes. 
Par  P.  Elourens.     Paris,  1864. 

Ix  tlie  course  of  tlie  present  year  [18G4]  several  foreign 
commentaries  upon  Mr.  Darwin  s  great  work  have  made 
tlieir  appearance.  Tliose  wlio  have  perused  that  re- 
markable chapter  of  the  ''  Antiquity  of  Man,"  in  which 
Sir  Charles  Lyell  draws  a  parallel  between  the  develop- 
ment of  species  and  that  of  languages,  wdll  be  glad'  to 
hear  that  one  of  the  most  eminent  philologers  of  Ger- 
many, Professor  Schleicher,  has,  independently,  published 
a  most  instructive  and  philosophical  pamphlet  (an  excel- 
lent notice  of  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  Header, 
for  February  27th  of  this  year)  supporting  similar  views 
with  all  the  weight  of  his  special  knowledge  and 
established  authority  as  a  linguist.  Professor  Haeckel, 
to  whom  Schleicher  addresses  himself,  previously  took 
occasion,  in  his  splendid  monograph  on  the  Radiolaria^ 

*  "Die  Radiolarien  :  eine  Monographie,"  p.  231, 


300  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [xiii- 

to  express  his  high  appreciation  of,  and  general  concord- 
ance with,  Mr.  Darwin  s  views. 

But  the  niost  elaborate  criticisms  of  the  "  Origin  of 
Species_^whicE"  have  ^appeared  are"  two_  works _oi_yery 
wicleiy  different  meritpthe  one  by  Professor  KoUiker,  the 
AvelTEiown^anatomist  and  histo]oDfi&r~of  Wtirzbtir^  the 
other  by  M.  FIourenaK  Perpetual  Secretary  of  the  French 
Academy  of  SciencesT 

Professor  Kolliker's  critical  essay  ^  Upon  the  Dar- 
v/inian  Theory  "  is,  like  all  that  proceeds  from  the  pen 
of  that  thoughtful  and  accomplished  writer,  worthy;  of 
the  most  careful  consideration.  It  comprises  a  brief  but 
clear  sketch  of  Darwin's  views,  followed  by  an  enume- 
ration of  the  leading  difficulties  in  the  way  of  their 
acceptance  ;  difiiculties  which  would  appear  to  be  insur- 
mountable to  Professor  Kolliker,  inasmuch  ashe  proposes 
to  replace  Mr.  Darwin's  Theory  by  one  which  he  terms 
the  "  Theory  of  Heterogeneous  Generation."  We  shall 
proceed  to  consider  first  the  destructive,  and  secondly, 
the  constructive  portion  of  the  essay. 

We  regret  to  find  ourselves  compelled  to  dissent  very 
widely  from  many  of  Professor  Kolliker's  remarks  ;  and 
from  none  more  thoroughly  than  from  those  in  which  he 
seeks  to  define  what  we  may  term  the  philosophical 
position  of  Darwinism. 

*' Darwin,"  says  Professor  Kolliker,  "is,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the 
word,  a  Teleologist.     He  says  quite  distinctly  (I'irst  Edition,  pp.  199,' 
200)  that  every  particular  in  the  structure  of  au  animal  has  been 
created  for  its  benefit,  and  he  regards  the  whole  series  of  animal  forms 
only  from  this  point  of  view." 

And  aofain : 


ii 


7.  The  teleological  general  conception  adopted  by  Darwin  is  a 
mistaken  one. 

"  Varieties  arise  irrespectively  of  the  notion  of  purpose,  or  of  utility, 
according  to  general  laws  of  Nature,  and  may  be  either  useful,  OT 
hurtful,  or  indilLrenk 


Kill.]  CIUTICISMS  ON  "  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIES:*  3()  1 

"The  assumption  that  an  organism  exists  only  on  account  of  some 
definite  end  in  view,  and  represents  something  more  than  the  incor- 
poration of  a  general  idea,  or  law,  implies  a  one-sided  conception  of 
the  universe.  Assuredly,  every  organ  has,  and  every  organism  fulfils, 
its  end,  but  its  purpose  is  not  the  condition  of  its  existence.  Every 
organism  is  also  sufficiently  perfect  for  the  purpose  it  serves,  and  in 
that,  at  least,  it  is  useless  to  seek  for  a  cause  of  its  improvement." 

It  is  RiTimil^T  lioAY  (Mereijtly  0110  .and  the  same  book 
will_ impress  different  minds.  That  which  struck  the 
present  writer  most  forcibly  on  his  first  perusal  of  the 
"  Origin  of  Species"  was  the  conviction  that  Teleolooy, 
as  commonly  understood,  had  received  its  deathblow'^at 
Mr.  Darwin's  hands.  For  the  teleological  argument  runs 
thus  :  an  organ  or  organism  (A)  is  precisely  fitted  to 
perform  a  function  or  purpose  (B)  ;  therefore  it  was 
specially  constructed  to  perform  that  function.  In 
Paley's  famous  illustration,  the  adaptation  of  all  the 
parts  of  the  watch  to  the  function,  or  purpose,  of  show- 
ing the  time,  is  held  to  be  evidence  that  the  watch  was 
specially  contrived  to  that  end ;  on  the  ground,  that  the 
only  cause  we  know  of,  competent  to  produce  such  an 
effect  as  a  watch  which  shall  keep  time,  is  a  contrivino- 
intelligence  adapting  the  means  directly  to  that  end. 

Suppose,  however,  that  any  one  had  been  able  to  show 
that  the  watch  had  not  been  made  directly  by  any 
person,  but  that  it  was  the  result  of  the  modification 
of  another  watch  which  kept  time  but  |)oorly ;  and  that 
this  again  had  proceeded  from  a  structure  which  could 
bardly  be  called  a  watch  at  all — seeing  that  it  had  no 
figures  on  the  dial  and  the  hands  were  rudimentary; 
and  that  going  back  and  back  in  time  we  came  at  last 
to  a  revolving  barrel  as  the  earliest  traceable  rudiment 
of  the  whole  fabric.  And  imagine  that  it  had  been 
possible  to  show  that  all  these  changes  had  resulted,  first, 
from  a  tendency  of  the  structure  to  vary  indefinitely; 
and  secondlv,  from  somethinor  in  the  surrounding  world 
u 


302  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiii. 

wMcli  helped  all  variations  in  the  direction  of  an  accu- 
rate time-keeper,  and  checked  all  those  in  other  directions ; 
then  it  is  obvious  that  the  force  of  Paley's  argument 
would  be  gone.  For  it  would  be  demonstrated  that  an 
apparatus  thoroughly  well  adapted  to  a  particular  pur- 
pose might  be  the  result  of  a  method  of  trial  and  error 
w^orkecl  by  unintelligent  agents,  as  w^ell  as  of  the  direct 
application  of  the  means  appropriate  to  that  end,  by  an 
intellio^ent  ag^ent. 

Now  it  appears  to  us  that  what  we  have  here,  for  illus- 
tration's sake,  supposed  to  be  done  with  the  watch,  is 
exactly  what  the  establishment  of  Darwin's  Theory  will 
do  for  the  organic  world.  For  the  notion  that  every 
oro;anism  has  been  created  as  it  is  and  launched  straio-ht 
at  a  purpose,  Mr.  Darwin  substitutes  the  conception  of 
something  which  may  fairly  be  termed  a  method  of  trial 
and  error.  Organisms  vary  incessantly ;  of  these  varia- 
tions the  few  meet  with  surrounding  conditions  which 
suit  them  and  thrive ;  the  many  are  unsuited  and  be- 
come extinguished. 

According  to  Teleology,  each  organism  is  like  a  riile 
bullet  fired  straight  at  a  mark ;  according  to  Darwin, 
organisms  are  like  grapeshot  of  w^hich  one  hits  some- 
thin  o;  and  the  rest  fall  v/ide. 

For  the  teleoloo^ist  an  oro^anism  exists  because  it  was 
made  for  the  conditions  in  which  it  is  found;  for  the 
Darwinian  an  organism  exists  because,  out  of  many  of 
its  kind,  it  is  the  only  one  w^hich  has  been  able  to  persist 
in  the  conditions  in  which  it  is  found. 

Teleology  implies  that  the  organs  of  every  organism 
are  perfect  and  cannot  be  improved  ;  the  Darwinian 
theory  simply  affirms  that  they  work  well  enough  t?r" 
enable  the  oro:anism  to  hold  its  own  ao:ainst  such  com- 
petitors  as  it  has  met  with,  but  admits  the  possibility  of 
indefinite    improvement.     But   an    example   may    bring 


XIII.]  CRITICISMS  ON  "  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES:'         303 

into  clearer  light  the  profound  opposition  between  the 
ordinary  teleological,  and  the  Darwinian,  conception. 

Cats  catch  mice,  small  birds  and  the  like,  very  well. 
Teleology  tells  us  that  they  do  so  because  they  w^ere 
"expressly  constructed,  for  so  doing — that  they  are  perfect 
mousing  apparatuses,  so  perfect  and  -so  delicately  ad- 
justed that  no  one  of  their  organs  could  be  altered, 
without  the  change  involving  the  alteration  of  all  the 
rest.  Darwinism  affirms,  on  the  contrary,  that  there 
w^as  no  express  construction  concerned  in  the  matter; 
but  thafaraong;  the  multitudinous  variations  of  the 
Feline  stock,  many  of  which  died  out  from  want  of 
power  to  resist  opposing  influences,  some,  the  cats,  were 
better  fitted  to  catch  mice  than  others,  whence  they 
throve  and  persisted,  in  proportion  to  the  advantage 
over  their  fellows  thus  offered  to  them. 

Far  from  imagining  that  cats  exist  in  order  to  catch 
mice  well,  Darwinism  supposes  that  cats  exist  because 
they  catch  mice  well — mousing  being  not  the  end,  but 
the  condition,  of  their  existence.  And  if  the  cat-type 
has  long  persisted  as  we  know  it,  the  interpretation  of 
the  fact  upon  Darwinian  priiiciples  would  be,  not  that 
the  cats  have  remained  invariable,  but  that  such  varieties 
as  have  incessantly  occurred  have  been,  on  the  whole, 
less  fitted  to  get  on  in  the  world  than  the  existing 
stock. 

If  we  apprehend  the  spirit  of  the  "  Origin  of  Species '' 
rightly,  then,  nothing  can  be  more  entirely  and  abso- 
lutely opposed  to  Teleology,  as  it  is  commonly  under- 
stood, than  the  Darwinian  Theory.  So  far  from  being 
a  "  Teleologist  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,''  we 
should  deny  that  he  is  a  Teleologist  in  the  ordinary 
sense  at  all ;  and  we  should  say  that,  apart  from  his 
merits  as  a  naturalist,,  he  has  rendered  a  most  remarkable 
service  to  philosophical  thought  by  enabling  the  student 


304  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS  [xm. 

of  Nature  to  recognise,  to  tlieir  fullest  extent,  tliose  adap^ 
tations  to  purpose  wliich  are  so  striking  in  the  organic 
world,  and  which  Teleology  has  done  good  service  in 
keeping  before  our  minds,  without  being  false  to  the 
fundamental  principles  of  a  scientific  conception  of  the 
universe.  The  apparently  diverging  teachings  of  the 
Teleologist  and  of  the  Morphologist  are  reconciled  by 
the  Darwinian  hypothesis. 

But  leaving  our  own  impressions  of  the  "  Origin  of 
Species,"  and  turning  to  those  passages  specially  cited  by 
Professor  Kolliker,  we  cannot  admit  that  they  bear  the 
interpretation  he  puts  upon  them.  Darwin,  if  we  read 
him  rightly,  does  not  affirm  that  every  detail  in  the 
structure  of  an  animal  has  been  created  for  its  benefit. 
His  words  are  (p.  199)  : — 

*'  The  foregoing  remarks  lead  me  to  say  a  few  words  on  the  protest 
lately  made  "by  some  naturalists  against  the  utilitarian  dpctrine^  that 
every  detail  of  structure  lias  been  produced  for  the  good  of  its  possessor. 
They  believe  that  very  many  structures  have  been  created  for  beauty 
in  the  eyes  of  man,  or  for  mere  variety.  This  doctrine,  if  true,  would 
be  absolutely  fatal  to  my  theory — yet  I  fully  admit  that  many  struc- 
tures are  of  no  direct  use  to  their  possessor." 

And  after  sundry  illustrations  and  qualifications,  he 
concludes  (p.  200)  : — 

"  Hence  every  detail  of  structure  in  every  living  creature  (making 
some  little  allowance  for  the  direct  action  of  physical  conditions)  may 
be  viewed  either  as  having  been  of  special  use  to  some  ancestral  form, 
or  as  being  now  of  special  use  to  the  descendants  of  this  form — either 
directly,  or  indirectly,  through  the  complex  laws  of  growth," 

But  it  is  one  thing  to  say,  Darwinically,  that  every 
detail  observed  in  an  animal's  structure  is  of  use  to  it, 
or  has  been  of  use  to  its  ancestors ;  and  quite  another 
to  affirm,  teleologically,  that  every  detail  of  an  animal's 
structure  has  been  created  for  its  benefit.  On  the  former 
hypothesis,  for  example,  the  teeth  of  the  foetal  Balcena 
ha-ve  a  meaning ;  on  the  latter,  none.     So  far  as  we  are 


i 
xiii.J  CRITICISMS  ON  "TEH  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES:'         305 

'  a^Y^re,  tliere  is  not  a  plirase  in  tlie  "  Origin  of  Species," 
inconsistent  with  Professor  Kolliker's  position,  tliat  "  va- 
rieties arise  irrespei^tively  of  tiie  notion  of  purpose,  or 
of  utility,  according  to  general  laws  of  Nature,  and  may 

"be  eitlier  use%l,  or  hurtful,  or  indifferent/' 

On  the'  contrary,  Mr.  Darwin  wri:.s  (Summary  of 
Chap.  V.)  :— 

"  Our  ignorance  of  the  la-\Y3  of  variation  is  profound.  I^ot  in  one 
case  out  of  a  hundred  can  we  pretend  to  assign,  any  reason  why  this  or 
that  part  varies  more  or  less  from  the  same  part  in  the  parents.  .  .  •  . 
The  external  conditions  of  life,  as  climate  and  food,  &c.  seem  to  have 
induced  some  slight  modifications.  Habit,  in  producing  constitutional 
differences,  and  use,  in  strengthening,  and  disuse,  in  weakening  and 
diminishing  organs,  seem  to  have  been  more  potent  in  their  effects." 

And  finally,  as  if  to  prevent  all  possible  misconception, 
Mr.  Darwin  concludes  his  Chapter  on  Variation  with 
these  pregnant  words  : — 

**  Whatever  the  cause  may  be  of  each  slight  difference  in  the  offspring 
from  their  parents — and  a  cause  for  each  must  exist — it  is  the  steady 
accumulation,  through  natural  selection  of  such  differences,  when  bene- 
ficial to  the  individual,  that  gives  rise  to  all  the  more  important 
modifications  of  structure,  by  which  the  innumerable  beings  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  are  enabled  to  struggle  with  each  otlier,  and  the  best 
"^adapted  to  survive." 

"We  have  dwelt  at  length  upon  this  subject,  because  of 
its  great  general  importance,  and  because  we  believe  that 
Professor  KoUiker  s  criticisms  on  this  head  are  based 
upon  a  misapprehension  of  Mr.  Darwin's  views — sub- 
stantially they  appear  to  us  to  coincide  v/ith  his  own. 
The  other  objections  which  Professor  Kolliker  enumerates  ^ 
and  discusses  are  the  folTowinsj  -}— 

"  1.  !N"o_  transitional  forms  between  existing  species    are   known ; 
and  known  varieties,  whether  selected  or  spontaneous,  neveir^go  -so . 
far  as  to  establish  new  species." 

*  Space  will  not  allow  us  to  give  Professor  KoUiker's  arguments  in  detail ; 
our  readers  will  find  a  full  and  accurate  version  of  them  in  the  Header  for 
August  13th  and  20th,  1864. 


306  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiii. 

To  this  Professor  KoUiker  appears  to  attacli  some 
weight.  He  makes  the  suggestion  that  the  short-faced 
tumbler  pigeon  may  be  a  pathological  product. 

"  2.  1^0  transitional  forms  of  animals  are  met  with  among  tlie 
organic  remains  of  earlier  epoclis." 

Upon  this,  Professor  KoUiker  remarks  that  the  absence 
of  trausitional  forms  in  the  fossil  world,  though  not  ne- 
cessarily fatal  to  Darwin's  views,  weakens  his  case. 

*'  3.  The  struggle  for  existence  does  not  take  place." 

To  this  objection,  urged  by  Pelzeln,  KoUiker,  very 
justly,  attaches  no  weight. 

"  4.  A  tendency  of  organisms  to  give  rise  to  useful  varieties,  and 
a  natural  selection,  do  not  exist. 

"  The  varieties  which  are  found  arise  in  consequence  of  manifold 
external  influences,  and  it  is  not  obvious  why  they  all,  or  partially, 
should  be  particularly  useful.  Each  animal  suffices  for  its  own  ends, 
is  perfect  of  its  kind,  and  needs  no  further  development.  ShoulB", 
however,  a  variety  be  useful  and  even  maintain  itself,  there  is  no 
obvious  reason  why  it  should  change  any  further.  The  whole  con- 
ception of  the  imperfection  of  organisms  and  the  necessity  of  their_ 
becoming  perfected  is  plainly  the  weakest  side  of  Darwin's  Theory, 
and  a  ^3is  aller  (ISTothbehelf)  because  Darwin  could  think  of  no  other 
principle  by  which  to  explain  the  metamorphoses  which,  as  I  also 
believe,  have  occurred." 

Here  again  we  must  venture  to  dissent  completely 
from  Professor  KoUiker's  conception  of  Mr.  Darwin's 
liypothesis.  It  appears  to  us  to  be  one  of  the  many 
peculiar  merits  of  that  hypothesis  that  it  involves  no 
belief  in  a  necessary  and  continual  progress  of  organisms. 

Again,  Mr.  Darwin,  if  we  read  him  aright,  assumes 
no  special  tendency  of  organisms  to  give  rise  to  useful 
varieties,  and  knows  nothing  of  needs  of  development, 
or  necessity  of  perfection.  What  he  says  is,  in  sub- 
stance :  All  organisms,  vary.  It  is  in  the  highest  degree 
improbable  that  any  given  variety  should  have  exactly 
the   same   relations   to    surrounding   conditions  as   the ' 


STii.]  CRITICISMS  ON  "  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES:'         30  7 

parent  stock.  In  that  case  it  is  either  better  fitted 
(wlien  the  variation  may  be  called  useful),  or  worse 
fitted,  to  cope  with  them.  If  better,  it  will  tend  to 
supplant  the  parent  stock ;  if  worse,  it  will  tend  to  be 
extinguished  by.  the  parent  stock. 

If  (as  is  hardly  conceivable)  the  new  variety  is  so  per- 
fectly adapted  to  the  conditions  that  no  improvement  upon 
it  is  possible, — it  will  persist,  because,  though  it  does 
not  cease  to  vary7the  varieties  will  be  inferior  to  itself. 

If,  as  is  more  probable,  the  new  variety  is  by  no 
means  perfectly  adapted  to  its  conditions,  but  only 
fairly  well  adapted  to  them,  it  will  persist,  so  long  as 
none  of  the  varieties  which  it  throws  off  are  better 
adapted  than  itself. 

On  the  other  hand,  as  soon  as  it  varies  in  a  useful 
way,  i.  e.  when  the  variation  is  such  as  to  adapt  it  more 
perfectly  to  its  conditions,  the  fresh  variety  will  tend 
to  supplant  the  former. 

So  far  from  a  gradual  progress  towards  perfection 
forming  any  necessary  part  of  the  Darwinian  creed,  it 
appears  to  us  that  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  indefinite 
persistence  in  one  state,  or  with  a  gradual  retrogression. 
Suppose,  for  example,  a  return  of  the  glacial  epoch  and 
a  spread  of  polar  climatal  conditions  over  the  whole 
globe.  The  operation  of  natural  selection  under  these  cir- 
cumstances would  tend,  on  the  whole,  to  the  weeding  out 
of  the  higher  organisms  and  the  cherishing  of  the  lower 
forms  of  life.  Cryptogamic  vegetation  would  have  the 
advantage  over  Phanerogamic ;  Hydrozoa  over  Corals  ; 
Crustacea  over  Insecta,  and  Amjjhipoda  and  Isopoda ' 
ove;r  the  high '^.rCr^f5^acea;  Cetaceans  and  Seals  over 
the  Primates, ,  the-  civilization  of  the  Esquimaux  over 
that  .of  the  European." 

"5.  Pelzeln  has    also    objected   that  if  the  later  organisms  have 
proceeded  from  the  earlier,  the  whole  developmental  series,  from  the 


308  LJr  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIETFS  [xiii. 

simplest   to  the  liigliest,  conld  not  now  exist ;  in  such  a  case  the 
simpler  organisms  must  have  disappeared." 

To  tliis  Professor  KoUiker  replies,  with  x^erfect  justice, 
that  the  conclusion  drawn  by  Pelzeln  does  not  really 
follow  from  Darwin's  premises,  and  that,  if  we  take  the 
facts  of  Palaeontology  as  they  stand,  they  rather  support 
than  oppose  Darwin's  theory. 

"  6.  Great  weight  must  he  attached  to  the  objection  brought  forward 
by  Huxley,  otherwise  a  warm  supporter  of  Darwin's  hypothesis,  that 
we  know  of  no  varieties  which  are  sterile  with  one  another,  as  is  tho 
rule  among  sharply  distinguished  animal  forms. 

"  If  Darwin  is  right,  it  must  be  demonstrated  that  forms  may  be 
produced  by  selection,  which,  like  the  present  sharply  distinguished 
animal  forms,  are  infertile  when  coupled  with  one  another,  and  this 
has  not  been  done." 

The  Yv^ eight  of  this  objection  is  obvious ;  but  our 
ignorance  of  the  conditions  of  fertility  and  sterility, 
the  want  of  carefully  conducted  experiments  extending 
over  long  series  of  years,  and  the  strange  anomalies 
presented  by  the  results  of  the  cross-fertilization  of 
many  plants,  should  all,  as  Mr.  Darwin  has  urged,  be 
taken  into  account  in  considering  it. 

The  seventh  objection  is  that  we  have  already  dis- 
cussed {siqjrd,  p.  329). 

The  eighth  and  last  stands  as  follows : — 

''  8.  The  developmental  theory  of  Darwin  is  not  needed  to  enable  ua 
to  understand  the  regular  harmonious  progress  of  the  complete  series 
of  organic  forms  from  the  simpler  to  the  more  perfect. 

"The  existence  of  general  laws  of  Nature  explains  this  harmony, 
even  if  we  assume  that  all  beings  have  arisen  separately  and  inde- 
pendent of  one  another.  Darwin  forgets  that  inorganic  nature,  in 
which  there  can  be  no  thought  of  a  genetic  connexion  of  forms, 
exliibits  the  same  regular  plan,  the  same  harmony,  as  the  organic 
world ;  and  that,  to  cite  only  one  example,  there  is  as  much  a  natural 
eystem  of  n\inerals  as  of  plants  and  animals." 

We  do  not  feel  quite  sure  that  we  seize  Professor 
Kjlliker's  meaning  here,  but  he  appears  to  suggest  that 


xiji.]  CRITICISMS  ON  «  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES."  309 

the  observation  of  the  general  order  and  harmony  which 
pervade  inorganic  nature,  would  lead  us  to  anticipate  a 
similar  order  and  harmony  in  the  organic  world.  And 
this  is  no  doubt  true,  but  it  by  no  means  follows  that 
the  particular  order  and  harmony  observed  among  them 
should  be  that  which  we  see.  Surely  the  stripes  of  dun 
horses,  and  the  teeth  of  the  foetal  Balcena,  are  not  ex- 
plained by  the  "  existence  of  general  laws  of  Nature.'' 
Mr.  Darwin  .  endeavours  to  explain  the  exact  order  of 
organic  nature  which  exists ;  not  the  mere  fact  that 
there  is  some  order. 

And  with  regard  to  the  existence  of  a  natural  system 
of  minerals ;  the  obvious  reply  is  that  there  may  be  a 
natural  classification  of  any  objects — of  stones  on  a  sea- 
beach,  or  of  works  of  art ;  a  natural  classification  being 
simply  an  assemblage  of  objects  in  groups,  so  as  to 
express  their  most  important  and  fundamental  re- 
semblances and  difierences.  No  doubt  Mr.  Darwin  be- 
lieves tlmt  those  resemblances  and  difi'erences  upon 
which  our  natural  systems  or  classifications  of  animals 
and  plants  are  based,  are  resemblances  and  difi'erences 
which  have  been  produced  genetically,  but  we  can  dis- 
cover no  reason  for  supj^osing  that  he  denies  the  existence 
of  natural  classifications  of  other  kinds. 

And,  after  all,  is  it  quite  so  certain  that  a  genetic 
relation  may  not  underlie  the  classification  of  minerals  1 
The  inorganic  world  has  not  always  been  what  we  see 
it.  It  has  certainly  had  its  metamorphoses,  and,  very 
probably,  a  long  "  Entwickelungsgeschichte "  out  of  a 
nebular  blastema.  Who  knows  how  far  that  amount 
of  likeness  among  sets  of  minerals,  in  virtue  of  which 
they  are  now  grouped  into  families  and  orders,  may 
not  be  the  expression  of  the  common  conditions  to 
which  that  particular  patch  of  nebulous  fog,  which  may 
have   been   constituted   by  their  atoms,  and  of  which 


310  ZJF  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiiL 

fchey  may  be,  in  the  strictest  sense,  tlie  descendants,  was 
subjected? 

It  will  be  obvious  from  v/liat  bas  preceded,  that  we 
do  not  ag;ree  witb  Professor  KoUiker  in  tbinkino;  tbe 
objections  wbicb  be  brings  forward  so  weighty  as  to  be 
fatal  to  Darwin's  view.  But  even  if  tbe  case  were  otbcr- 
wise,  we  sliould  be  unable  to  accept  tbe  "  Theory  of 
Heteroo-eneons  Generation"  which  is  offered  as  a  sub- 
stitute.     That  theory  is  thus  stated : — 

"  The  fundamental  conception  of  this  hypothesis  is,  that,  under  the 
influence  of  a  general  law  of  development,  the  germs  of  organisms 
produce  others  different  from  themselves.  This  might  happen  (1)  by 
the  fecundated,  ova  passing,  in  the  course  of  their  development,  under 
particular  circumstances,  into  higher  forms  ;  (2)  by  the  primitive  and 
later  organisms  producing  other  organisms  without  fecundation,  out  of 
germs  or  eggs  (Parthenogenesis)." 

In  favour  of  this  hypothesis.  Professor  Kolliker  ad- 
duces the  well-known  facts  of  Agamogenesis,  or  "  alter- 
nate generation ; ''  the  extreme  dissimilarity  of  the 
males  and  females  of  many  animals ;  and  of  the  males, 
females,  and  neuters  of  those  insects  which  live  in 
colonies :  and  he  defines  its  relations  to  the  Darwinian 
theory  as  follows  : — 

"  It  is  obvious  that  my  hypothesis  is  apparently  very  similar  to 
Darwin's,  inasmuch  as  I  also  consider  that  the  various  forms  of 
animals  have  proceeded  directly  from  one  another.  My  hypothesis  of 
the  creation  of  organisms  by  heterogeneous  generation,  however,  is 
distinguished  very  essentially  from  Darwin's  by  the  entire  absence  of 
the  principle  of'  useful  variations  and  their  natural  selection  ;  and  my 
fundamental  conception  is  this,  that  a  great  plan  of  development  lies 
at  the  foundation  of  the  origin  of  the  whole  organic  world,  impelling 
the  simpler  forms  to  more  and  more  complex  developments.  How 
this  law  operates,  what  influences  determine  the  development  of  the 
eggs  and  germs,  and  impel  them  to  assume  constantly  new  forms,  I 
naturally  cannot  pretend  to  say  j  but  I  can  at  least  adduce  the  great 
analogy  of  the  alternation  of  generations.  If  a  Bipinnaria,  a  Bracki- 
alaria,  a  Pluteus,  is  competent  to  produce  the  Echinoderm,  which  is 
80  widely  difi'erent  from  it ;  if  a  hydroid  polype  can  produce  the  highei 


XI1I.3  CRITICISMS  ON  ''THE  ORIGIN  OF  SFECIESP         311 

Medusa;  if  the  vermiform  Trematode  *  nurse*  can  develop  within 
itself  the  very  unlike  Cercaria,  it  will  not  appear  impossible  that  the 
egp:,  or  ciliated  embryo,  of  a  sponge,  for  once,  under  special  conditions, 
might  become  a  hydroid  polype,  or  the  embryo  of  a  Medusa,  an 
Echinoderm." 

It  is  obvious,  from  tliese  extracts,  that  Professor  Kol- 
liker's  hypotliesis  is  based  upon  the  supposed  existence 
of  a  close  analogy  between  the  phsenomena  of  Agamo- 
genesis  and  the  production  of  new  species  from  pre- 
existing ones.  But  is  the  analogy  a  real  one  ?  We 
think  that  it  is  not,  and,  by  the  hypothesis,  cannot  be. 

For  what  are  the  phsenomena  of  Agamogenesis,  stated 
generally  1  An  impregnated  egg  develops  into  an 
asexual  form,  A ;  this  gives  rise,  asexually,  to  a  second 
form  or  forms,  B,  more  or  less  different  from  A.  B  may 
multiply  asexually  again ;  in  the  simpler  cases,  however, 
it  does  not,  but,  acquiring  sexual  characters,  produces 
impregnated  eggs  from  whence  A  once  more  arises. 

No  case  of  Agamogenesis  is  known  in  which,  ivlien  A 
differs  ividely  from  B,  it  is  itself  cajpable  of  sexual 
propagation.  No  case  whatever  is  known  in  which  the 
progeny  of  B,  by  sexual  generation,  is  other  than  a 
rej)roduction  of  A. 

But  if  this  be  a  true  statement  of  the  nature  of  the 
process  of  Agamogenesis,  how  can  it  enable  us  to  com- 
prehend the  production  of  new  species  from  already 
existing  ones  ?  Let  us  suppose  Hyaenas  to  have  pre- 
ceded Dogs,  and  to  have  produced  the  latter  in  this 
way.  Then  the  Hysena  will  represent  A,  and  the  Dog, 
B.  The  first  difficulty  that  presents  itself  is  that  the 
Hyaena  must  be  asexual,  or  the  process  will  be  wholly 
without  analogy  in  the  world  of  Agamogenesis.  But 
passing  over  this  difficulty,  and  supposing  a  male  and 
female  Dog  to  be  produced  at  the .  same  time  from  the 
Hy^na  stock,  the  progeny  of  the  pair,  if  the  analogy 


312  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEVrS.  [xiii. 

of  the  simpler  kinds  of  Agamogenesis^  is  to  be  followed, 
should  be  a  litter,  not  of  puppies,  but  of  young  Hyaenas. 
For  the  Agamogenetic  series  is  always,  as  we  have  seen, 
A  :  B  :  A  :  B,  &c.;  whereas,  for  the  production  of  a  new 
species,  the  series  must  be  A  :  B  :  B  :  B,  &c.  The  pro- 
duction of  new  species,  or  genera,  is  the  extreme  perma- 
nent divergence  from  the  primitive  stock.  All  known 
Agamogenetic  processes,  on  the  other  hand,  end  in  a 
complete  return  to  the  primitive  stock.  How'  then  is 
the  production  of  new  species  to  be  rendered  intelligible 
by  the  analogy  of  Agamogenesis  ? 

The  other  alternative  put  by  Professor  KoUiker — the 
passage  of  fecundated  ova  in  the  course  of  their  develop- 
ment into  higher  forms — would,  if  it  occurred,  be  merely 
an  extreme  case  of  variation  in  the  Darw^inian  sense, 
greater  in  degree  than,  but  perfectly  similar  in  kind  to, 
that  which  occurred  when  the  well-known  Ancon  Earn 
was  developed  from  an  ordinary  Ewe's  ovum.  Indeed 
we  have  always  thought  that  Mr.  Darwin  has  unneces- 
sarily hampered  himself  by  adhering  so  strictly  to  his 
favourite  "  Natura  non  facit  saltum.'*  We  greatly 
suspect  that  she  does  make  considerable  jumps  in 
the  way  of  variation  now  and  then,  and  that  these 
saltations  give  rise  to  some  of  the  gaps  which  appear 
to  exist  in  the  series  of  known  forms. 


Strongly  and  freely  as  we  have  ventured  to  disagree 

*  If,  on  the  contrary,  we  follow  tbe  analogy  of  the  more  complex  forms  oi 
Agamogenesis,  such  as  that  exhibited  by  some  Trema^oc^ct  and  by  the  ApMdes._ 
the  Hyaena  must  produce,  asexually,  a  brood  of  asexual  Dogs,  from  which 
other  sexless  Dogs  must  proceed.  At  the  end  of  a  certain  number  of  terms 
of  the  series,  the  Dogs  would  acquire  sexes  and  generate  young  ;  but  these 
youijg  would  be,  not  Dogs,  but  Hysenas.  In  fact,  we  have  demonstrated,  in 
Agamogenetic  phsenomena,that  inevitable  recTirrence  to  the  original  type,  which 
Is  asserted  to  be  true  of  variations  in  general,  by  Mr.  Darwin's  opponents  ; 
and  which,  if  the  assertion  could  be  changed  into  &  demonstration,  would,  ia 
fact,  foe  fatal  to  his  hypothesis. 


£111. J  CRITICISMS  ON  '*  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES**         313 

witli  Professor  Kolliker,  we  have  always  done  so  with 
regret,  and  we  trust  without  violating  that  respect  which 
is  due,  not  only  to  his  scientific  eminence  and  to  the 
careful  study  which  he  has  devoted  to  the  subject,  but 
to  the  perfect  fairness  of  his  argumentation,  and  the 
generous  appreciation  of  the  worth  of  Mr.  Darwin's 
labours  which  he  always  displays.  It  would  be  satisfac- 
tory to  be  able  to  sav  as  much  for  M.  Flourens. 

But  the  Perpetual  Secretary  of" the  French  Academy 
of  Sciences  deals  with  Mr.  Darwin  as  the  first  Napoleon 
would  have  treated  an  "ideologue;''  and  while  dis- 
playing a  painful  weakness  of  logic  and  shallowness  of 
information,  assumes  a  tone  of  authority,  which  always 
touches  upon  the  ludicrous,  and  sometimes  passes  the 
limits  of  good  breeding. 

For  example  (p.  bQ>)  ; — 

"M.  Darwin  continue:  *Aucune  distinction  aLsolue  n'a  etc  et  ne 
pent  etre  etablie  entre  les  especes  et  les  varietes.'  Je  vous  ai  deja  dit 
que  vous  vous  trompiez ;  une  distinction  absolue  separe  les  varietes 
d'avec  les  especes." 

*'  Je  vous  ai  dejd  dit ;  moi,  M.  le  Secretaire  perpetuel 
de  TAcademie  des  Sciences  :  et  vous 

*  Qui  n'etes  rien, 
Pas  mcme  Academicien;  * 

what  do  you  mean  by  asserting  the  contrary?'*  Being 
devoid  of  the  blessings  of  an  Academy  in  England,  we 
are  unaccustomed  to  see  our  ablest  men  treated  in  this 
fashion  even  by  a  "  Perpetual  Secretary.'' 

Or  again,  considering  that  if  there  is  any  one  quality 
of  Mr.  Darwin's  work  to  which  friends  and  foes  have 
alike  borne  witness,  it  is  his  candour  and  fairness  in 
admitting  and  discussing  objections,  what  is  to  be 
thought  of  M.  Flourens'  assertion,  that 


314  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xiii. 

"  M.  Darwin  ne  cite  que  les  auteurs  qui  partagent  ses  opinions." 
,R  40.) 

Once  more  (p.  65)  : 

"Enfin  I'ouvrage  de  M.  Darwin  a  paru.  On  ne  pent  qu'etre  frappe 
du  talent  de  Tauteur.  Mais  que  d'idees  obscures,  que  d'idees  fausses ! 
Quel  jargon  metaphysique  jete  mal  a  propos  dans  rhistoire  naturelle, 
qui  tombe  dans  le  galimatias  des  qu'elle  sort  des  idees  claires,  dea  ^ 
'■dees  justes  !  Quel  langage  pretentieux  et  vide !  Quelles  personi-  ~ 
fications  pueriles  et  surannees !  0  lucidite  !  0  solidite  de  1' esprit 
Frangais,  que  devenez-vous  ? " 

"Obscure  ideas/'  "  metaphysical  jargon,"  "pretentious 
and  empty  language/'  "  puerile  and  superannuated  per- 
sonifications." Mr.  Darwin  has  many  and  hot  opponents 
on  this  side  of  the  Channel  and  in  Germany,  but  we  do 
not  recollect  to  have  found  precisely  these  sins  in  the 
long  catalogue  of  those  hitherto  laid  to  his  charge.  It  is 
worth  while,  therefore,  to  examine  into  these  discoveries 
effected  solely  by  the  aid  of  the  "  lucidity  and  solidity  " 
of  the  mind  of  M.  Flourens. 

According  to  M.  Flourens,  Mr.  Darwin's  great  error  is 
that  he  has  personified  Nature  (p.  10),  and  farther  that 
he  has 

"  imagined  a  natural  selection :  be  imagines  afterwards  tbat  tbis 
power  of  selecting  [pouvoij-  d^elire)  wbicb  be  gives  to  ligature  is  similar 
to  tbe  jDower  of  man.  Tbese  two  suppositions  admitted,  notbing 
stops  bim :  be  plays  witb  Nature  as  be  likes,  and  makes  her  do  all 
be  pleases."     (P.  6.) 

And  this  is  the  way  M.  Flourens  extinguishes  natural 
selection : 

"  YoyoDS  done  encore  nne  fois,  ce  qu'il  pent  y  avoir  de  fonde  dans 
ce  qu'on  nomme  election  naturelle. 

"  L' election  naturelle  n'est  sous  un  autre  nom  que  la  nature.  Pour 
un  etre  organise,  la  nature  n'est  que  1' organisation,  ni  plus  ni  moins. 

"  II  faudra  done  aussi  personnifier  V organisation,  et  dire  que 
V organisation  cboisit  V organisation.  Velection  naturelle  est  cette 
fc<!rnie  subsiantielle  dont  on  jouait  autrefois  avec  tant  de  facilite. 
Ariatote  disait  que  '  Si  I'art  de  batir  etait  dans  le  bois,  cet  art  agirait 


XIII.]  CRITICISMS  ON  «  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES/*  315 

comme  la  nature?  A  la  place  de  Vart  de  bdtir  M.  Darwin  met 
Velection  naturelle,  et  c'est  tout  un :  Tun  n'est  pas  plus  chinierique 
que  Fautre."     (P.  31.) 

And  this  is  really  all  that  M.  Flourens  can  make  of 
Natural  Selection.  We  have  given  the  original,  in  fear 
lest  a  translation  should  be  regarded  as  a  travesty ;  but 
with  the.  original  before  the  reader,  we  may  try  to 
analyse  the  passage.  "  For  an  organized  being,  Nature 
is  only  organization,  neither  more  nor  less.^' 

Organized  beings  then  have  absolutely  no  relation  to 
inorganic  nature  :  a  plant  does  not  depend  on  soil  or 
sunshine,  climate,  depth  in  the  ocean,  height  above  it ; 
the  quantity  of  saline  matters  in  water  have  no  influence 
upon  animal  life  ;  the  substitution  of  carbonic  acid  for 
oxygen  in  our  atmosphere  would  hurt  nobody !  That 
these  are  absurdities  no  one  should  know  better  than 
M.  Flourens  ;  but  they  are  logical  deductions  from  the 
assertion  just  quoted,  and  from  the  further  statement 
that  natural  selection  means  only  that  "organization 
chooses  and  selects  organization." 

For  if  it  be  once  admitted  (what  no  sane  man  denies) 
that  the  chances  of  life  of  any  given  organism  are 
increased  by  certain  conditions  (A)  and  diminished  by 
their  opposites  (B),  then  it  is  mathematically  certain  that 
any  change  of  conditions  in  the  direction  of  (A)  will 
exercise  a  selective  influence  in  favour  of  thcat  organism, 
tending  to  its  increase  and  multiplication,  while  any 
change  in  the  direction  of  (B)  wdll  exercise  a  selective 
influence  against  that  organism,  tending  to  its  decrease 
and  extinction. 

Or,  on  the  other  hand,  conditions  remaining  the  same, 
let  a  given  organism  vary  (and  no  one  doubts  that  they 
do  vary)  in  two  directions  :  into  one  form  (a)  better  fitted 
to  cope  with  these  conditions  than  the  original  stock, 
and  a  second  (&)  less  well  adapted  to  them.     Then  it  is 


316  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiir 

no  less  certain  that  the  conditions  in  question  must 
exercise  a  selective  influence  in  favour  of  (a)  and  against 
(6),  so  tliat  (a)  will  tend  to  predominance,  and  (6)  to 
extirpation. 

That  M.  Flourens  should  be  unable  to  perceive  the 
logical  necessity  of  these  simple  arguments,  which  lie  at 
the  foundation  of  all  Mr.  Darwin's  reasoning;  that  he 
should  confound  an  irrefragable  deduction  from  the 
observed  relations  of  organisms  to  the  conditions  which 
lie  around  them,  with  a  metaphysical  "forme  substan- 
tielle,"  or  a  chimerical  personification  of  the  powers 
of  Nature,  would  be  incredible,  were  it  not  that  other 
passages  of  his  work  leave  no  room  for  doubt  upon 
the  subject. 

"  On  imagine  une  election  naturelle  que,  pour  plus  de  menagement, 
on  me  dit  etre  inconsciente,  sans  s'apercevoir  que  le  contre-sens  litteral 
est  precisement  la:  election  inconsciente.''''     (P.  52.) 

"  J'ai  deja  dit  ce  qu'il  faut  penser  de  X election  naturelle.  Ou 
Velection  naturelle  n'est  rien,  ou  c'est  la  nature :  mais  la  nature  douee 
d' election,  mais  la  nature  personniliee :  derniere  erreur  du  dernier 
siecle :  Le  xix®  ne  fait  plus  de  personnifications."     (P.  53.) 

M.  Flourens  cannot  imagine  an  unconscious  selection 
— it  is  for  him  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Did  M, 
Flourens  ever  visit  one  of  the  prettiest  watering-places 
of  "  la  belle  France,"  the  Baie  d'Arcachon  "?  If  so.  he 
will  probably  have  passed  through  the  district  of  the 
Landes,  and  will  have  had  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  formation  of  "  dunes  "  on  a  grand  scale.  What  are 
these  "  dunes  ?"  The  winds  and  waves  of  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  have  not  much  consciousness,  and  yet  they  have 
with  great  care  "selected,'^  from  among  an  infinity  of 
masses  of  silex  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  which  have  been 
submitted  to  their  action,  all  the  grains  of  sand  below  a 
certain  size,  and  have  heaped  them  by  themselves  over 
a  great  area.  This  sand  has  been  "unconsciously 
fielected ''  from   amidst  the  gravel  in  which  it  first  lay 


nil.]  CRITICISMS  ON  "  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES:'  317 

witli  as  miicli  precision  as  if  man  had  '^  consciously 
selected  "  it  by  the  aid  of  a  sieve.  Physical  Geology  is 
full  of  such  selections — of  the  picking  out  of  the  soft 
from  the  hard,  of  the  soluble  from  the  insoluble,  of  the 
fusible  from  the  infusible,  by  natural  agencies  to  which 
we  are  certainly  not  in  the  habit  of  ascribing  con- 
sciousness-. 

But  that  which  wind  and  sea  are  to  a  sandy  beach, 
the  sum  of  influences,  which  we  term  the  "  conditions 
of  existence,''  is  to  living  organisms.  The  weak  are 
sifted  out  from  the  strong.  A  frosty  night  "  selects  " 
the  hardy  plants  in  a  plantation  from  among  the  tender 
ones  as  effectually  as  if  it  were  the  wind,  and  they,  the 
sand  and  pebbles,  of  our  illustration  ;  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  if  the  intelligence  of  a  gardener  had  been 
operative  in  cutting  the  weaker  organisms  down.  The 
thistle,  which' has  spread  over  the  Pampas,  to  the 
destruction  of  native  plants,  has  been  more  effectually 
"  selected"  by  the  im conscious  operation  of  natural  con- 
ditions than  if  a  thousand  agriculturists  had  spent  their 
time  in  sowing  it. 

It  is  one  of  Mr.  Darwin's  many  great  services  to 
Biological  science  that  he  has  demonstrated  the  sig- 
nificance of  these  facts.  He  has  shown  that — given 
variation  and  e^iven  change  of  conditions — the  inevitable 
result  is  the  exercise  of  such  an  influence  upon  organisms 
that  one  is  helped  and  another  is  impeded ;  one  tends 
to  predominate,  another  to  disappear ;  and  thus  the 
living  world  bears  within  itself,  and  is  surrounded  by, 
impulses  towards  incessant  change. 

But  the  truths  just  stated  are  as  certain  as  any  other 
physical  laws,  quite  independently  of  the  truth,  or  false- 
hood, of  the  hypothesis  which  Mr.  Darwin  has  based 
upon  them  ;  and  that  M;  Flour  ens,  missing  the  substance 
and  grasping  at  a  shadow  should  be  blind  to  the  admi- 


318  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xni 

rable  exjDosition  of  tliem,  whicli  Mr.  Darwin  has  given, 

and  see  nothing  there  but  a  "  derniere  erreur  du  dernier 

siecle^' — a   personification    of  Nature — leads   us  indeed 

to  cry  with  him :    ''0  lucidite  !  0  solidite  de  Tesprit 

Francais,   que  devenez-vous  ?'' 

M.  Flourens  has,  in  fact,  utterly  failed  to  comprehend 

the  first  principles  of  the  doctrine  which  he  assails  so 

rudely.     His  objections  to  details  are  of  the  old  sort,  so 

battered  and  hackneyed  on  this  side  of  the  Channel,  that 

not   even  a   Quarterly  Eeviewer  could  be  induced   to 

pick  them  up  for  the  purpose   of  pelting  Mr.  Darw^in 

over  aofain.     We  have  Cuvier  and  the  mummies  :    M. 

Eoulin  and  the  domesticated  animals  of  America ;   the 

difiiculties  presented  by  hybridism  and  by  Palaeontology  ; 

Darwinism  a  rifacciamento  of  De  Maillet  and  Lamarck ; 

Darwinism  a  system  without  a  commencement,  and  its 

author  bound  to  believe  in  M.  Pouchet,  &c.  &c.      How 

one  knows  it  all  by  heart,  and  with  wdiat  relief  one  reads 

at  p.  65 — 

"  Je  laisse  M.  Darwin  ! " 

But  we  cannot  leave  M.  Flourens  without  calling  our 
readers'  attention  to  his  wonderful  tenth  chapter,  "  De 
la  Preexistence  des  Germes  et  de  TEpigenese,''  which 
opens  thus : — 

*'  Spontaneous  generation  is  only  a  chima^ra.  TMs  point  esta- 
blished, two  hypotheses  remain  :  that  of  pre-eocistence  and  that  of 
ejngenesis.  The  one  of  these  hypotheses  has  as  little  foundation  as 
the  other."     (P.  163.) 

"  The  doctrine  of  epigenesis  is  derived  from  Harvey :  following  by 
ocular  inspection  the  development  of  the  new  being  in  the  Windsor 
does,  he  saw  each  part  appear  successively,  and  taking  the  moment 
of  appearance  for  the  moment  of  formation  he  imagined  epigenesis.^* 
(P.  165.) 

On  the  contrary,  says  M.  Flourens  (p.  167), 

"  The  new  being  is  formed  at  a  stroke  (tout  d\in  coup),  as  a  whole, 
histantaneously ;  it  is  not  formed  part  by  part,  and  at  different  times. 


XIII.]  CRITICISMS  ON  ''THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES:*         319 

It  is  formed  at  once ;  it  is  formed  at  the  single  individual  moment 
at  which  the  conjunction  of  the  male  and  female  elements  takes 
place." 

It  will  be  observed  tliat  Zvl.  Flourens  uses  lanQ-ua^e 

o       o 

wliicli  cannot  be  mistaken.  For  him,  the  labours  of  Yon 
Baer,  of  Eathke,  of  Coste,  and  their  contemporaries  and 
successors  in  Germany,  France,  and  England,  are  non- 
existent /and,  as  Darwin  ^Hmagina'^  natural  selection,  so 
Harvey  "imagina'  that  doctrine  which  gives  him  an  even 
greater  claim  to  the  veneration  of  posterity  than  his 
better  known  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the'  blood. 

Language  such  as  that  we  have  quoted  is,  in  fact,  so 
preposterous,  so  utterly  incompatible  with  anything  but 
absolute  ignorance  of  some  of  the  best  established  facts, 
that  we  should  have  passed  it  over  in  silence  had  it  not 
appeared  to  afford  some  clue  to  M.  Flourens'  unhesitating, 
d  priori,  repudiation  of  all  forms  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
progressive  modification  of  living  beings.  He  whose 
mind  remains  uninfluenced  by  an  acquaintance  with  the 
phaenomena  of  development,  must  indeed  lack  one  of  the 
chief  motives  towards  the  endeavour  to  trace  a  genetic 
relation  between  the  different  existing  forms  of  life. 
Those  who  are  ignorant  of  Geology,  find  no  difficulty  in 
believing  that  the  world  was  made  as  it  is  ;  and  the 
shepherd,  untutored  in  history,  sees  no  reason  to  regard 
the  green  mounds  which  indicate  the  site  of  a  Eoman 
camp,  as  aught  but  part  and. parcel  of  the  primaeval 
hill-side.  So  M.  Flourens,  who  believes  that  embryos 
are  formed  "  tout  d'un  coup,"  naturally  finds  no  difficulty 
in  conceiving  that  species  came  into  existence  in  the 
same  v/ay. 


XIV, 

ON  DESOAETES'  "  DISCOUESE  TOUCHING  THE 
METHOD  OF  USING  ONE'S  EEASON  EIGHTLY 
AND  OF  SEEKING  SCIENTIFIC  TEUTH/' 

It  bas  been  well  said  that  "  all  tlie  tlioudits  of  men, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world  until  now,  are  linked 
together  into  one  great  chain ; "  but  the  conception  of 
the  intellectual  filiation  of  mankind  which  is  expressed 
in  these  words  may,  perhaps,  be  more  fitly  shadowed 
forth  by  a  different  metaphor.  The  thoughts  of  men 
seem  rather  to  be  comparable  to  the  leaves,  flowers,  and 
fruit  upon  the  innumerable  branches  of  a  few  great  stems, 
fed  by  commingled  and  hidden  roots.  These  stems  bear 
the  names  of  the  half-a-dozen  men,  endowed  with  intel- 
lects of  heroic  force  and  clearness,  to  whom  we  are  led, 
at  whatever  point  of  the  world  of  thought  the  attempt 
to  trace  its  history  commences  ;  just  as  certainly  as  the 
following  up  the  small  twigs  of  a  tree  to  the  branchlets 
which  bear  them,  and  tracino^  the  branchlets  to  their 
supporting  branches,  brings  us,  sooner  or  later,  to  the 
bole. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  thinker  who,  more  than  any 
other,  stands  in  the  relation  of  such  a  stem  towards  the 
philosophy  and  the  science  of  the  modern  world  is  Eene 
Descartes.     I  mean,  that  if  you  lay  hold  of  any  charac- 


XIV.]  ON  DESCARTES'  **  DISCO URSE»  3 2 1 

fceristic  product  of  modern  vvays  of  thinking,  either  in 
the  region  of  philosophy,  or  in  that  of  science,  yon  find 
the  spirit  of  that  thought,  if  not  its  form,  to  have  been 
present  in  the  mind  of  the  great  Frenchman. 

There  are  some  men  who  are  counted  great  because 
they  represent  the  actuality  of  their  own  age,  and  mnror 
it  as  it  is.  Such  an  one  was  Voltaire,  of  whom  it  was 
epigrammaticallysaid,"he  expressed  everybody's  thoughts 
better  than  anybody/'  ^  But  there  a.re  other  men  who 
attain  greatness  because  they  embody  the  potentiality  of 
their  own  day,  and  magically  reflect  the  future.  They 
express  the  thoughts  which  will  be  everybody's  two 
or  three  centuries  after  them.  Such  an  one  was 
Descartes. 

Born,  in  1596,  nearly  three  hundred  years  ago,  of  a 
noble  family  in  Touraine,  Eene  Descartes  grew  up  into  a 
sickly  and  diminutive  child,  whose  keen  wit  soon  gained 
him  that  title  of  "the  Philosopher,"  which,  in  the  mouths 
of  his  noble  kinsmen,  was  more  than  half  a  reproach. 
The  best  schoolmasters  of  the  day,  the  Jesuits,  educated 
him  as  well  as  a  French  boy  of  the  seventeenth  century 
could  be  educated.  And  they  must  have  done  their 
work  honestly  and  well,  for,  before  his  schoolboy  days 
were  over,  he  had  discovered  that  the  most  of  what  he 
had  learned,  except  in  mathematics,  was  devoid  of  solid 
and  real  value. 

'^ Therefore,"  saj's  he,  in  that  "Discourse  "^  which  I  have  taken  for 
my  text,  "  as  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to  be  set  free  from  the  govern- 
ment of  my  teachers,  I  entirely  foi^sook  the  study  of  letters  ;  and 
determining  to  seek  no  other  knowledge  than  that  which  I  could 
discover  within  myself,  or  in  the  great  book  of  the  world,  I  spent  the 
remainder  of  my  youth  in  travelling  ;  in  seeing  courts  and  armies  ;  in 
the  society  of  people  of  different  humours  and  conditions;  in  gathering 

^  I  forget  who  it  was  said  of  Mm  :  "  II  a  plus  que  personne  I'esprit  que  tout 
le  monde  a." 

2  "  Discours  de  la  Methode  pour  bien  condriire  sa  Eaison  et  cherclier  Is 
Vdrite  dans  les  Sciences. 


322  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiv. 

varied  experience  ;  in  testing  myself  by  tlie  chances  of  fortune  ;  and 
in  always  trying  to  profit  by  my  reflections  on  what  happened.  .  .  . 
And  I  always  had  an  intense  desire  to  learn  how  to  distinguish  truth 
from  falsehood,  in  order  to  be  clear  about  my  actions,  and  to  walk 
surefootedly  in  this  Mfe," 

But  "learn  wliat  is  true,  in  order  to  do  what  is  riofht," 
is  tlie  summing  up  of  the  whole  duty  of  man,  for  all 
who  are  unable  to  satisfy  their  mental  hunger  with  the 
east  wind  of  authority ;  and  to  those  of  us  moderns  who 
are  in  this  position,  it  is  one  of  Descartes'  great  claims  to 
our  reverence  as  a  spiritual  ancestor,  that,  at  three-and- 
twenty,  he  saw  clearly  that  this  was  his  duty,  and  acted 
up  to  his  conviction.  At  two-and-thirty,  in  fact,  finding 
all  other  occupations  incompatible  with  the  search  after 
the  knowledge  which  leads  to  action,  and  being  possessed 
of  a  modest  competence,  he  withdrew  into  Holland ; 
where  he  spent  nine  years  in  learning  and  thinking,  in 
such  retirement  that  only  one  or  two  trusted  friends 
knew  of  his  whereabouts. 

In  1637  the  firstfruits  of  these  long  meditations  were 
given  to  the  world  in  the  famous  *'  Discourse  touching 
the  Method  of  using  Eeason  rightly  and  of  seeking 
scientific  Truth,"  which,  at  once  an  autobiography  and  a 
philosophy,  clothes  the  deepest  thought  in  language  of 
exquisite  harmony,  simplicity,  and  clearness. 

The  central  propositions  of  the  whole  "Discourse  "  are 
these.  There  is  a  path  that  leads  to  truth  so  surely,  that 
any  one  who  will  follow  it  must  needs  reach  the  goal, 
whether  his  ca^oacity  be  great  or  small.  And  there  is  one 
guiding  rule  by  which  a  man  may  always  find  this  path, 
and  keep  himself  from  straying  when  he  has  found  it. 
This  golden  rule  is — give  unqualified  assent  to  no  pro- 
positions but  those  the  truth  of  which  is  so  clear  and 
distinct  that  they  cannot  be  doubted. 

The  enunciation  of  this  great  first  commandment  of 


XIV.]  ON  DESCARTES' " DISCOURSED  323 

science  consecrated  Doubt.  It  removed  Doubt  from  the 
seat  of  penance  among  the  grievous  sins  to  which  it  had 
long  been  condemned,  and  enthroned  it  in  that  high  place 
among  the  primary  duties,  which  is  assigned  to  it  by  the 
scientific  conscience  of  these  latter  days.  Descartes  was 
the  first  among  the  moderns  to  obey  this  commandment 
deliberately  ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  religious  duty,  to  strip 
ofi"  all  his  beliefs  and  reduce  himself  to  a  state  of  intel- 
lectual nakedness,  until  such  time  as  he  could  satisfy 
himself  which  were  fit  to  be  worn.  He  thoug:ht  a  bare 
skin  healthier  than  the  most  respectable  and  well-cut 
clothing  of  what  might,  possibly,  be  mere  shoddy. 

Vv'hen  I  say  that  Descartes  consecrated  doubt,  you  must 
remember  that  it  was  that  sort  of  doubt  which  Goethe 
has  called  ^Hhe  active  scepticism,  whose  whole  aim  is  to 
conquer  itself ; ''  ^  and  not  that  other  sort  which  is  born 
of  flippancy  ard  ignorance,  and  whose  aim  is  only  to 
perpetuate  itself,  as  an  excuse  for  idleness  and  indifi'er- 
ence.  But  it  is  impossible  to  define  what  is  meant  by 
scientific  doubt  better  than  in  Descartes'  own  words. 
After  describing  the  gradual  progress  of  his  negative 
criticism,  he  tells  us  : — 

"For  all  that,  I  did  not  imitate  tlie  sceptics,  wlio  doulbt  only  for 
doubting's  sake,  and  pretend  to  be  always  undecided;  on  the  contrary, 
my  whole  intention  was  to  arrive  at  certainty,  and  to  dig  away  the 
drift  and  the  sand  until  I  reached  the  rock  or  the  clay  beneath." 

And  further,  since  no  man  of  common  sense,  when 
he  pulls  down  his  house  for  the  purpose  of  rebuilding  it, 
fails  to  provide  himself  with  some  shelter  while  the  work 
is  in  progress  ;  so,  before  demolishing  the  spacious,  if  not 
commodious,  mansion  of  his  old  beliefs,  Descartes  thought 
it  wise  to  equip  himself  w^ith  what  he  calls  "  une  morale 
'par  iDwvision,''   by   which   he  resolved   to  govern  his 

*  "  Eine  tliatige  Skepsis  ist  die,  welclie  imablassi^  bemiiht  ist  sich  selhsfc 
zu  iiberwinden,  mid  durch  geregelte  Erfahrang  zu  einer  Art  von  bediugter 
Zaverliissigkeit  zu  gelangen." — Maximen  unci  Eeflexioncn,  7'®  Abtheilung. 


324  LAY  SERMONS,  JDDEUSSFS,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xiv. 

practical  life  uiitil  such  time  as  lie  should  be  better 
instructed.  The  laws  of  this  "  provisional  self-govern- 
ment "  are  embodied  in  four  maxims,  of  which  one  binds 
our  philosopher  to  submit  himself  to  the  laws  and  religion 
in  which  he  was  brought  up ;  another,  to  act,  on  all  those 
occasions  which  call  for  action,  promptly  and  according 
to  the  best  of  his  judgment,  and  to  abide,  without 
repining,  by  the  result :  a  third  rule  is  to  seek  happiness 
in  limiting  his  desires,  rather  than  in  attempting  to  satisfy 
them ;  while  the  last  is  to  make  the  search  after  truth 
the  business  of  his  life. 

Thus  prepared  to  go  on  living  while  he  doubted, 
Descartes  proceeded  to  face  his  doubts  like  a  man.  One 
thing  was  clear  to  him,  he  would  not  lie  to  himself — 
would,  under  no  penalties,  say,  "I  am  sure"  of  that  of 
which  he  was  not  sure  ;  but  would  go  on  digging  and 
delving  until  he  came  to  the  solid  adamant ;  or,  at  worst, 
made  sure  there  was  no  adamant.  As  the  record  of  his 
progress  tells  us,  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that  life  is  full 
of  .  delusions  ;  that  authority  may  err  ;  that  testimony 
may  be  false  or  mistaken ;  that  reason  lands  us  in  end- 
less fallacies ;  that  memory  is  often  as  little  trustworthy 
as  hope  ;  that  the  evidence  of  the  very  senses  may  be 
misunderstood  ;  that  dreams  are  real  as  long  as  they  last, 
and  that  what  we  call  reality  may  be  a  long  and  restless 
dream.  Nay,  it  is  conceivable  that  some  powerful  and 
malicious  being  may  find  his  pleasure  in  deluding  us,  and 
in  making  us  believe  the  thing  which  is  not,  every  moment 
of  our  lives.  What,  then,  is  certain  1  What  even,  if 
such  a  being  exists,  is  beyond  the  reach  of  his  powers  of 
delusion  ?  Why,  the  fact  that  the  thought,  the  present 
consciousness,  exists.  Our  thoughts  may  be  delusive, 
but  they  cannot  be  fictitious.  As  thoughts,  they  are 
real  and  existent,  and  the  cleverest  deceiver  cannot 
make  them  otherwise. 


XIV.]  ON  DESCARTES*  '* Dli^COURSE:*  '    325 

Thus,  tlioiTglit  is  existence.     More  tlian  tLat,  so  far  aa 
we  are  concerned,  existence  is  tlioiigiit,  all  onr  concep- 
tions of  existence  being  some  kind  or  other  of  thought. 
Do   not   for   a.   moment   suppose   that   these   are   mere 
paradoxes  or  subtleties.      A  little  reflection   upon   the 
commonest  facts  proves  them  to  be  irrefragable  truths. 
For  example,  I  take  up  a  marble,  and  I  find  it  to  be 
a  red,  round,  hard,  single  body.     We  call  the  redness, 
the  roundness,  the  hardness,  and  the  singleness,  "quali- 
ties "  of  the  marble  ;  and  it  sounds,  at  first,  the  height  of 
absurdity  to  say  that  all  these  qualities  are  modes  of  our 
own  consciousness,  which  cannot  even  be  conceived  to 
exist  in  the  marble.     But  consider  the  redness,  to  begin 
with.     How  does  the  sensation  of  redness  arise?     The 
waves  of  a  certain  very  attenuated  matter,  the  particles 
of  which  are  vibi'ating  with  vast  rapidity,  but  with  very 
different  velocities,   strike  upon  the  marble,  and  those 
which  vibrate  with  one  particular  velocity  are  thrown  off 
from  its  surface  in  all  directions.     The  optical  apparatus 
of  the  eye  gathers  some  of  these  together,  and  gives  them 
such  a  course  that  they  impinge  upon  the  surface  of  the 
retina,  which  is  a  singularly  delicate  apparatus,  connected, 
with  the  termination  of  the  fibres  of   the  optic  nerve. 
The  impulses  of  the  attenuated  matter,  or  ether,  affect 
this  apparatus  and  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve  in  a 
certain  way ;  and  the  change  in  the  fibres  of   the  optic 
nerve  produces  yet  other  changes  in  the  brain ;    and 
these,  in  some  fashion  unknown  to  us,   give  rise  to  the 
feeling,    or   consciousness,    of  redness.      If   the   marble 
could  remain  imchang;ed,  and  either  the  rate  of  vibration 
of  the  ether,  or  .the  nature  of  the  retina,  could  be  altered, 
the  marble  would  seem  not  red,  but  some  other  colour. 
There  are  many  people  who  are  what  are  called  colour- 
blind,  being    unable   to    distinguish    one    colour    from 
another.     Such  an  one  mis^ht  declare  our  marble  to  be 

15 


326  Ur  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xir. 

green  ;  and  lie  would  be  quite  as  riglit  in  saying  that  it 
is  green,  as  we  are  in  declaring  it  to  be  red.  But  then, 
as  tbe  marble  caunot,  in  itself,  be  both  green  and  red,  at 
the  same  time,  this  shows  that  the  quality  "redness^' 
must  be  in  our  consciousness  and  not  in  the  marble. 

In  like  manner,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  roundness  and 
the  hardness  are  forms  of  our  consciousness,  belono;ino' 
to  the  groups  which  we  call  sensations  of  sight  and 
touch.  If  the  surface  of  the  cornea  were  cylindrical,  we 
should  have  a  very  different  notion  of  a  round  body 
from  that  which  v/e  possess  now ;  and  if  the  strength  of 
the  fabric,  and  the  force  of  the  muscles,  of  the  body  were 
increased  a  hundredfold,  our  marble  would  seem  to  be  as 
soft  as  a  pellet  of  bread  crumbs. 

Not  only  is  it  obvious  that  all  these  qualities  are  in  us, 
but,  if  you  will  make  the  attempt,  you  wdll  find  it  quite 
impossible  to  conceive  of  "  blueness,"  "  roundness,"  and 
"  hardness  ^'  as  existing  without  reference  to  some  such 
consciousness  as  our  own.  It  may  seem  strange  to  say 
that  even  the  "  singleness  "  of  the  marble  is  relative  to  us ; 
but  extremely  sinijDle  experiments  will  show  that  such  is 
veritably  the  case,  and  that  our  two  most  trustworthy- 
senses  may  be  made  to  contradict  one  another  on  this 
very  point.  Hold  the  marble  between  the  finger  and 
thumb,  and  look  at  it  in  the  ordinary  way.  Sight  and 
touch  agree  that  it  is  single.  Now  squint,  and  sight 
tells  you  that  there'  are  two  marbles,  while  touch  asserts 
that  there  is  only  one.  Next,  return  the  eyes  to  their 
natural  position,  and,  having  crossed  the  forefinger  and 
\k\.^  middle  finger,  put  the  marble  between  their  tips. 
Then  touch  will  declare  that  there  are  two  marbles,  while 
Bight  says  that  there  is  cnly  one  ;  and  touch  claims  our 
belief,  when  we  attend  to  it,  just  as  imperatively  as 
eight  does. 

But  it  may  be  said,  the  marble  takes  up  a  certain 


xiv.J  ON  DESCARTES'  ''BIS course:'  327 

space  which  could  not  be  occupied,  at  the  same  time,  by 
anything  else.  In  other  words,  the  marble  has  the 
primary  quality  of  matter,  extension.  Surely  this  cjuality 
must  be  in  the  thing,  and  not  in  our  minds  \  But  the 
reply  must  still  be  ;  w^hatever  may,  or  may  not,  exist  in  the 
thing,  all  that  we  can  know  of  these  qualities  is  a  state  of 
consciousness.  What  w^e  call  extension  is  a  consciousness 
of  a  relation  between  two,  or  more,  affections  of  the 
sense  of  sight,  or  of  touch.  And  it  is  wholly  incon- 
ceivable that  what  we  call  extension  should  exist  inde- 
pendently of  such  consciousness  as  our  own.  Whether, 
notwithstanding  this  inconceivability,  it  does  so  exist,  or 
not,  is  a  point  on  which  I  offer  no  opinion. 

Thus,  whatever  our  marble  may  be  in  itself,  all  that 
we  can  know  of  it  is  under  the  shape  of  a  bundle  of  our 
own  consciousnesses. 

Nor  is  our  knowledge  of  anything  we  know  or  feel 
more,  or  less,  than  a  knowledge  of  states  of  consciousness. 
And  our  whole  life  is  made  up  of  such  states.  Some  of 
these  states  we  refer  to  a  cause  we  call  "  self ; "  others  to 
a  cause  or  causes  which  may  be  comprehended  under 
the  title  of  '*  not-self'*'  But  neither  of  the  existence  of 
'self,''  nor  of  that  of  ''not-self,"  have  we,  or  can  we  by 
any  possibility  have,  any  such  unquestionable  and  im- 
mediate certainty  as  we  have  of  the  states  of  conscious- 
ness which  we  consider  to  be  their  effects.  They  are  not 
immediately  observed  facts,  but  results  of  the  application 
of  the  law  of  causation  to  those  facts.  Strictly  speaking, 
the  existence  of  a  "  self"  and  of  a  "not-self"  are  hypo- 
theses by  which  we  account  for  the  facts  of  consciousness. 
They  stand  upon  the  same  footing  as  the  belief  in  the 
general  trustworthiness  of  memory,  and  in  the  general 
constancy  of  the  order  of  nature  —  as  hypothetical 
assumptions  wdiich  cannot  be  proved,  or  known  with 
that  highest  degree  of  certainty  which  is  given  by  im- 


328  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xiv. 

mediate  consciousness ;  but  wliicli,  nevertlieless,  are  of 
the  highest  practical  value,  inasmuch  as  the  conclu- 
sions logically  drawn  from  them  are  always  verified 
by  experience. 

This,  in  my  judgment  is  the  ultimate  issue  of  Descartes' 
argument ;  but  it  is  proper  for  me  to  point  out  that  we 
have  left  Descartes  himself  some  way  behind  us.  He 
stopped  at  the  famous  formula,  **  I  think,  therefore  I  am." 
But  a  little  consideration  will  show  this  formula  to  be 
full  of  snares  and  verbal  entanoiements.  In  the  first 
place,  the  ''therefore"  has  no  business  there.  The  "I 
Lim"  is  assumed  in  the  "  I  think,"  which  is  simply  another 
way  of  saying  "I  am  thinking."  And,  in  the  second 
place,  "  I  think  "  is  not  one  simple  proposition,  but  three 
distinct  assertions  rolled  into  one.  The  first  of  these  is, 
'*  something  called  I  exists  ; "  the  second  is,  "  something 
called  thought  exists;"  and  the  third  is,  ''  the  thought  is 
the  result  of  the  action  of  the  I.^' 

Now,  it  will  be  obvious  to  you,  that  the  only  one  of 
these  three  propositions  which  can  stand  the  Cartesian 
test  of  certainty  is  the  second.  It  cannot  be  doubted, 
for  the  very  doubt  is  an  existent  thought.  But  the  first 
and  third,  whether  true  or  not,  may  be  doubted,  and 
have  been  doubted.  For  the  assertor  may  be  asked, 
How  do  you  know  that  thought  is  not  self-existent ;  or 
that  a  given  thought  is  not  the  effect  of  its  antecedent 
thought,  or  of  some  external  power  1  And  a  diversity  of 
other  questions,  much  more  easily  put  than  answered. 
Descartes,  determined  as  he  was  to  strip  off  all  the  gar- 
ments which  the  intellect  weaves  for  itself,  forgot  this 
gossamer  shirt  of  the  "  self ;"  to  the  great  detriment, 
and  indeed  ruin,  of  his  toilet  when  he  began  to  clothe 
himself  again. 

But  it  is  beside  my  purpose  to  dwell  upon  the  minor 
peculiarities  of  the  Cartesian  philosophy.     All  I  wish  to 


xiT.]  ON  DESCARTES'  *' discourse:'  329 

put  clearly  before  your  minds  thus  far,  is  that  Descartes, 
having  commenced  by  declaring  doubt  to  be  a  duty, 
found  certainty  in  consciousness  alone  ;  and  that  the 
necessary  outcome  of  his  views  is  what  may  properly  be 
termed  Idealism ;  namely,  the  doctrine  that,  whatever 
the  universe  may  be,  all  we  can  know  of  it  is  the  picture 
presented  to  us  by  consciousness.  This  picture  may  be 
a  true  likeness — though  how  this  can  be  is  inconceiv- 
able ;  or  it  may  have  no  more  resemblance  to  its  cause 
than  one  of  Bach's  fugues  has  to  the  person  who  is 
playing  it;  or  than  a  piece  of  poetry  has  to  the  mouth 
and  lips  of  a  reciter.  It  is  enough  for  all  the  practical 
purposes  of  human  existence  if  we  find  that  our  trust  in 
the  representations  of  consciousness  is  verified  by  results  ; 
and  that,  by  their  help,  we  are  enabled  "to  walk  sure- 
footedly  in  this  life." 

Thus  the  method,  or  path  which  leads  to  truth,  indi- 
cated by  Descartes,  takes  us  straight  to  the  Critical 
Idealism  of  his  great  successor  Kant.  It  is  that  Idealism 
which  declares  the  ultimate  fact  of  all  knowledge  to  be  a 
consciousness,  or,  in  other  words,  a  mental  phsenomenon  ; 
and  therefore  afiirms  the  highest  of  all  certainties,  and 
indeed  the  only  absolute  certainty,  to  be  the  existence  of 
mind.  But  it  "is  also  that  Idealism  which  refuses  to 
make  any  assertions,  either  positive  or  negative,  as  to 
what  lies  beyond  consciousness.-  It  accuses  the  subtle 
Berkeley  of  stepping  beyond  the  limits  of  knowledge 
when  he  declared  that  a  substance  of  matter  does  not 
exist ;  and  of  illogicality,  for  not  seeing  that  the  ar- 
guments which  he  supposed  demolished  the  existence 
of  matter  were  equally  destructive  to  the  existence 
of  souL  And  it  refuses  to  listen  to  the  jargon  of 
more  recent  days  about  the  "  Absolute,"  and  all  the 
other  hypostatized  adjectives,  the  initial  letters  of 
the  names  of  which   are   generally   printed  in    capita] 


630  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEV/B,  [xiv. 

letters ;  just  as  you  give  a  Grenadier  a  bearskin  cap,  to 
make  him  look  more  formidable  than  he  is  by  nature. 

I  repeat,  the  path  indicated  and  foUoAved  by  Descartes 
which  we  have  hitherto  been  treading,  leads  through 
doubt  to  that  critical  Idealism  which  lies  at  the  heart 
of  modern  metaphysical  thought.  But  the '' Discourse'" 
shows  us  another,  and  apparently  very  different,  path, 
which  leads,  quite  as  definitely,  to  that  correlation  of  all 
the  phsenomena  of  the  universe  with  matter  and  motion, 
which  lies  at  the  heart  of  modern  physical  thought,  and 
which  most  people  call  Materialism. 

The  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  v/hen  Des- 
cartes reached  manhood,  is  one  of  the  great  epochs  of  the 
intellectual  life  of  mankind.  At  that  time,  physical 
science  suddenly  strode  into  the  arena  of  public  and 
familiar  thought,  and  openly  challenged,  not  only  Philo- 
sophy and  the  Church,  but  that  common  ignorance 
which  passes  by  the  name  of  Common  Sense.  The  asser- 
tion of  the  motion  of  the  earth  was  a  defiance  to  all 
three,  and  Physical  Science  threw  down  her  glove  by  the 
hand  of  Galileo. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  think  of  the  immediate  result  of 
the  coml^at ;  to  see  the  champion  of  science,  old,  worn, 
and  on  his  knees  before  the  Cardinal  Inquisitor,  signing 
his  name  to  what  he  knew  to  be  a  lie.  And,  no  doubt, 
the  Cardinals  rubbed  their  hands  as  they  thought  how 
well  they  had  silenced  and  discredited  their  adversary. 
But  two  hundred  years  have  passed,  and  however  feeble 
or  faulty  her  soldiers.  Physical  Science  sits  crowned  and 
enthroned  as  one  of  the  legitimate  rulers  of  the  world 
of  thouplit.  Charitv  children  would  be  ashamed  not  to 
know  that  the  earth  moves ;  while  the  Schoolmen  are 
forgotten  ;  and  the  Cardinals — well,  the  Cardinals  are  at 
the  OEcumenical  Council,  still  at  their  old  business  of 
trying  to  stop  the  movement  of  the  world. 


jLiv.]  ON  DISCARDS'  '' LTSCOURSE:*  331 

As  a  sLip,  wMcli  having  lain  becalmed  with  every 
stitch  of  canvas  set,  bounds  away  before  the  breeze 
which  springs  up  astern,  so  the  mind  of  Descartes,  poised 
in  equilibrium  of  doubt,  not  only  yielded  to  the  full  force 
of  the  impulse  towards  physical  science  and  physical 
ways  of  thought,  given  by  his  great  contemjDoraries, 
Galileo  and  Harvey,  but  shot  beyond  them ;  and  antici- 
pated, by  bold  speculation,  the  conclusions,  which  could 
only  be  placed  upon  a  secure  foundation  by  the  labours 
of  generations  of  workers. 

Descartes  saw  that  the  discoveries  of  Galileo  meant 
that  the  remotest  parts  of  the  universe  were  governed  by 
mechanical  laws ;  while  those  of  Harvey  meant  that  the 
same  laws  presided  over  the  operations  of  that  portion  of 
the  world  which  is  nearest  to  us,  namely,  our  own  bodily 
frame.  And  crossing  the  interval  betw^een  the  centre 
and  its  vast  circumference  by  one  of  the  great  strides  of 
genius,  Descartes  sought  to  resolve  all  the  phaenomena  of 
the  universe  into  matter  and  motion,  or  forces  operating 
according  to  law.^  This  grand  conception,  which  is 
sketched  in  the  ^'Discours,'^  and  more  fully  developed 
in  the  "Principes"  and  in  the  *'Traite  de  THomme,''  he 
worked  out  with  extraordinary  power  and  knowledge ; 
and  with  the  effect  of  arriving,  in  the  last-named  essay, 
at  that  purely  mechanical  view  of  vital  phaenomena 
towards  which  modern  physiology  is  striving. 

Let  us  try  to  understand  how  Descartes  got  into  this 
path,  and  w^hy  it  led  him  where  it  did.  The  mechanism 
of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  had  evidently  taken  a 
great  hold  of  his  mind,  as  he  describes  it  several  times, 
at  much  length.     After  giving  a  full  accounc  of  it  in  the 

1  *'■  Au  milieu  de  toutes  ses  erreurs,  11  ne  faut  pas  meconnaitre  line  grande 
idee,  qui  consiste  a  avoir  tente  pour  la  premiere  fois  de  ramener  tous  les 
phenomenes  naturels  a  n'etre  qu'un  simple  develloppemeut  des  lois  de  la 
mecanique,"  is  the  weighty  judgment  of  Biot,  cited  by  Bouillier  (Histoire  d4 
la  Fhilosophie  CarUsienne^  t.  i.  p.  196). 


332  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiv. 

'*  Discourse,"  and  erroneously  describing  tlie  motion  of 
tlie  blood,  not  to  the  contraction  of  the  walls  of  the 
heart,  but  to  the  heat  which  he  supposes  to  be  generated 
there,  he  adds  : — 

**  This  motion,  wliicli  I  liave  just  explained,  is  as  mncli  tlie  necessary 
result  of  tlie  structure  of  the  parts  which  one  can  see  in  the  heart,  and 
of  the  heat  which  one  may  feel  there  with  one's  fingers,  and  of  the 
nature  of  the  Hood,  which  may  be  experimentally  ascertained;  as  is 
that  of  a  clock  of  the  force,  the  situation,  and  the  figure,  of  its  weight 
and  of  its  wheels." 

But  if  this  apparently  vital  operation  were  explicable 

as  a  simple  mechanism,  might  not  other  vital  operations 

be  reducible  to  the  same  category  ?      Descartes  replies 

without  hesitation  in  the  affirmative. 

"The  animal  spirits,"  says  he,  ''resemble  a  very  subtle  flaid,  or  a 
very  pure  and  vivid  fiame,  and  are  continually  generated  in  the  heart, 
and  ascend  to  the  brain  as  to  a  sort  of  reservoir.  Hence  they  pass 
into  the  nerves  and  are  distributed  to  the  muscles,  causing  contraction, 
or  relaxation,  according  to  their  quantity." 

Thus,  according  to  Descartes,  the  animal  body  is  an 
automaton,  which  is  competent  to  perform  all  the  animal 
functions  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  a  clock  or  any  other 
piece  of  mechanism.     As  he  puts  the  case  himself : — 

"  In  proportion  as  these  spirits  [the  animal  spirits]  enter  the  cavities 
of  the  brain,  they  pass  thence  into  the  pores  of  its  substance,  and  from 
these  pores  into  the  nerves ;  where,  according  as  they  enter,  or  even 
only  tend  to  enter,  more  or  less,  into  one  than  into  another,  they  have 
the  power  of  altering  the  figure  of  the  muscles  into  which  the  nerves 
are  inserted,  and  by  this  means  of  causing  all  the  limbs  to  move. 
Thus,  as  you  may  have  seen  in  the  grottoes  and  the  fountains  in  royal 
gardens,  the  force  with  which  the  water  issues  from  its  reservoir  is 
sufficient  to  move  various  machines,  and  even  to  make  them  play 
instruments,  or  jDronounce  words  according  to  the  different  disposition 
of  the  pipes  which  lead  the  water. 

"And,  in  truth,  the  nerves  of  the  machine  which  I  am  describing  may 
very  well  be  compared  to  the  pipes  of  these  waterworks  ;  its  muscles 
and  its  tendons  to  the  other  various  engines  and  springs  which  seem  to 
move  them  ;  its  animal  spirits  to  the  water  which  impels  them,  of 
which  the  heart  is  the  fountain ;  while  the  cavities  of  the  brain  are 


X.IV.]  ON  DESCARTES'  *' DISCOURSE"  333 

the  central  office.  Moreover,  respiration  and  other  sucli  actions  as  are 
natural  and  usual  in  the  body,  and  which  depend  on  the  course  of  the 
spirits,  are  like  the  movements  of  a  clock,  or  of  a  mill,  which  may  be 
kept  up  by  the  ordinary  flow  of  the  water. 

"  The  external  objects  which,  by  their  mere  presence,  act  upon  the 
organs  of  the  senses ;  and  which,  by  this  means,  determine  the  cor- 
poral machine  to  move  in  many  different  ways,  according  as  the  parts 
of  the  brain  are  arranged,  are  like  the  strangers  who,  entering  into 
some  of  the  grottoes  of  these  waterworks,  unconsciously  cause  the 
movements  which  take  place  in  their  presence.  For  they  cannot  enter 
■without  treading  upon  certain  planks  so  arranged  that,  for  example,  if 
they  approach  a  bathing  Diana,  they  cause  her  to  hide  among  the 
reeds;  and  if  they  attempt  to  follow  her,  they  see  approaching  a 
JSTeptune,  who  threatens  them  wdth  his  trident ;  or  if  they  try  some 
other  way,  they  cause  some  monster  who  vomits  water  into  their 
faces,  to  dart  out ;  or  like  contrivances,  according  to  the  fancy  of  the 
engineers  who  have  made  them.  And  lastly,  when  the  rational  soul  is 
lodged  in  this  machine,  it  will  have  its  principal  seat  in  the  brain,  and 
will  take  the  place  of  the  engineer,  who  ought  to  be  in  that  part  of 
the  works  with  which  all  the  pipes  are  connected,  when  he  wishes  to 
increase,  or  to  slacken,  or  in  some  way  to  alter,  their  movements."  ^ 

And  again  still  more  strongly : — 

"  All  the  functions  which  I  have  attributed  to  this  machine  (the 
body),  as  the  digestion  of  food,  the  pulsation  of  the  heart  and  of 
the  arteries ;  the  nutrition  and  the  growth  of  the  limbs  ;  resjoiration, 
wakefulness,  and  sleep ;  the  reception  of  light,  sounds,  odours,  flavours, 
heat,  and  such  like  qualities,  in  the  organs  of  the  external  senses ;  the 
impression  of  the  ideas  of  these  in  the  organ  of  common  sense  and  in 
the  imagination ;  the  retention,  or  the  impression,  of  these  ideas  on  the 
memory  ;  the  internal  movements  of  the  appetites  and  the  passions ; 
and  lastly,  the  external  movements  of  all  the  limbs,  which  follow  so 
aptly,  as  well  the  action  of  the  objects  which  are  presented  to  the 
senses,  as  the  impressions  which  meet  in  the  memory,  that  they 
imitate  as  nearly  as  possible  those  of  a  real  man  :^  I  desire,  I  say, 
that  you  should  consider  that  these  functions  in  the  machine  naturally 
proceed  from  the  mere  arrangement  of  its  organs,  neither  more  nor 
less  than  do  the  movements  of  a  clock,  or  other  automaton,  from  that 

*  "  Traite  de  rHomme  "  (Cousin's  Edition),  p.  347. 

2  Descartes  pretends  that  he  does  not  apply  his  views  to  the  human  body, 
but  only  to  an  imaginary  machine  which,  if  it  could  be  constructed,  would  do 
sU  that  the  human  body  does  ;  throwmg  a  sop  to  Cerberus  unworthily  ;  and 
uaeiessly,  because  Cerberus  was  by  no  means  stupid  enough  to  swallow  it. 


334  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xiv. 

of  its  weiglits  and  its  wheels ;  so  that^  so  far  as  these  are  concerned,  it 
is  no  necessary  to  conceive  any  other  vegetative  or  sensitive  soul,  nor 
any  other  principle  of  motion,  or  of  life,  than  the  blood  and  the  spirits 
agitated  by  the  fire  which  burns  continually  in  the  heart,  and  which 
is  no  wise  essentially  different  from  all  the  fires  which  exist  in  inani- 
mate bodies."  ^ 

The  spirit  of  these  passages  is  exactly  that  of  the 
most  advanced  physiology  of  the  present  day ;  all  that 
is  necessary  to  make  them  coincide  with  our  present 
physiology  in  form,  is  to  represent  the  details  of  the 
working  of  the  animal  machinery  in  modern  language, 
and  by  the  aid  of  modern  conceptions. 

Most  undoubtedly,  the  digestion  of  food  in  the  human 
body  is  a  purely  chemical  process ;  and  the  passage  of 
the  nutritive  parts  of  that  food  into  the  blood,  a  physical 
operation.  Beyond  all  question,  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  is  simply  a  .matter  of  mechanism,  and  results  from 
the  structure  and  arrangement  of  the  parts  of  the  heart 
and  vessels,  from  the  contractility  of  those  organs,  and 
from  the  regulation  of  that  contractility  by  an  automa- 
tically acting  nervous  apparatus.  The  progress  of  phy- 
siology has  further  shown,  that  the  contractility  of  the 
muscles  and  the  irritability  of  the  nerves  are  purely  the 
results  of  the  molecular  mechanism  of  those  organs  ;  and 
that  the  regular  movements  of  the  respiratory,  ali- 
mentary, and  other  internal  organs  are  governed  and 
guided,  as  mechanically,  by  their  appropriate  nervous 
centres.  The  even  rhythm  of  the  breathing  of  every  one 
of  us  depends  upon  the  structural  integrity  of  a  particular 
region  of  the  medulla  oblongata,  as  much  as  the  ticking 
of  a  clock  depends  upon  the  integrity  of  the  escapement. 
You  may  take  away  the  hands  of  a  clock  and  break  up  its 
striking  machinery,  but  it  will  still  tick ;  and  a  man  may 
be  unable  to  feel,  speak,  or  move,  and  yet  he  will  breathe. 

Again,  in  entire  accordance  with  Descartes'  affirmatiOD, 

1  ^'Traite  de  I'Homme,"  p.  427. 


XIV.]  ON  DESCARTES'  " discourse:'  335 

it  is  certain  that  the  modes  of  motion  wliich  constitute 
the  physical  basis  of  light,  sound,  and  heat,  are  trans- 
muted into  affections  of  nervous  matter  by  the  sensory 
organs.  These  affections  are,  so  to  speak,  a  kind  of 
physical  ideas,  which  are  retained  in  the  central  organs, 
constituting  what  might  be  called  physical  memory,  and 
may  be  combined  ia  a  manner  which  answers  to  associa- 
tion and  imagination,  or  may  give  rise  to  muscular 
contractions,  in  those  '* reflex  actions''  which  are  the 
mechanical  representatives  of  volitions. 

Consider  what  happens  when  a  blow  is  aimed  at  the 
eye.-^  Instantly,  and  without  our  knowledge  or  will,  and 
even  against  the  will,  the  eyelids  close.  What  is  it  that 
happens  ?  A  picture  of  the  rapidly  advancing  fist  is 
made  upon  the  retina  at  the  back  of  the  eye.  The  retina 
changes  this  picture  into  an  affection  of  a  number  of  the 
fibres  of  the  optic  nerve ;  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve 
affect  certain  parts  of  the  brain ;  the  brain,  in  consequence, 
affects  those  particular  fibres  of  the  seventh  nerve  which 
go  to  the  orbicular  muscle  of  the  eyelids  ;  the  change  in 
these  nerve-fibres  causes  the  muscular  fibres  to  change 
their  dimensions,  so  as  to  become  shorter  and  broader  ; 
and  the  result  is  the  closing  of  the  slit  between  the  two 
lids,  round  which  these  fibres  are  disposed.  Here  is  a 
pure  mechanism,  giving  rise  to  a  purposive  action,  and 
strictly  comparable  to  that  by  which  Descartes  supposes 
his  Avaterwork  Diana  to  be  moved.  But  we  may  go 
further,  and  inquire  whether  our  volition,  in  what  we  term 
voluntary  action,  ever  plays  any  other  part  than  that  of 
Descartes'  engineer,  sitting  in  his  office,  and  turning  this 
tap  or  the  other,  as  he  wishes  to  set  one  or  another 
machine  in  motion,  but  exercising  no  direct  influence 
"upon  the  movements  of  the  whole. 

Our  voluntary  acts  consist  of  two  parts  :  firstly,  we 

*  Compare  "Traits  des  Passions,"  Art.  XIII.  and  XVL 


336  l^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS,  [xiv. 

desire  to  perform  a  certain  action  ;  and,  secondly,  we  some- 
how set  a-going  a  machinery  which  does  what  we  desire. 
But  so  little  do  we  directly  influence  that  machinery, 
that  nine-tenths  of  us  do  not  even  know  its  existence. 

Suppose  one  wills  to  raise  one^s  arm  and  whirl  it  round. 
Nothing  is  easier.  But  the  majority  of  us  do  not  know 
that  nerves  and  muscles  are  concerned  in  this  process ; 
and  the  best  anatomist  among  us  would  be  amazingly 
perplexed,  if  he  were  called  upon  to  direct  the  succession, 
and  the  relative  strength,  of  the  multitudinous  nerve- 
changes,  Vv^hich  are  the  actual  causes  of  this  very  simple 
operation. 

So  again  in  speaking.  How  many  of  us  know  that  the 
voice  is  produced  in  the  larynx,  and  modified  by  the 
mouth  ?  How  many  among  these  instructed  persons 
understand  how  the  voice  is  produced  and  modified? 
And  what  living  man,  if  he  had  unlimited  control  over  al] 
the  nerves  supplying  the  mouth  and  larynx  of  another 
person,  could  make  him  pronounce  a  sentence  ?  Yet,  if 
one  has  anything  to  say,  what  is  easier  than  to  say  it  ? 
We  desire  the  utterance  of  certain  words  :  we  touch  the 
spring  of  the  word-machine,  and  they  are  spoken.  Just 
as  Descartes'  engineer,  when  he  wanted  a  particular  hy- 
draulic machine  to  play,  had  only  to  turn  a  tap,  and  what 
he  wished  was  done.  It  is  because  the  body  is  a  ma- 
chine that  education  is  possible.  Education  is  the  forma- 
tion of  habits,  a  superinducing  of  an  artificial  organization 
upon  the  natural  organization  of  the  body ;  so  that  acts, 
which  at  first  required  a  conscious  effort,  eventually 
became  unconscious  and  mechanical.  If  the  act  which 
[)rimarily  requires  a  distinct  consciousness  and  volition 
of  its  details,  always  needed  the  same  effort,  education 
would  be  an  impossibility. 

According  to  Descartes,  then,  all  the  functions  whicli 
are  common  to  man  and  animals  are  performed  by  tliQ 


xiY.]  ON  DESCARTES' '' DISCOURSED  337 

body  as  a  mere  meclianism,  and  lie  looks  upon  oonscious- 
ness  as  the  peculiar  distinction  of  the  *'  cliose  pensante/^ 
of  the  "rational  sonl/'  which  in  man  (and  in  man 
only,  in  Descartes'  opinion)  is  superadded  to  the  body. 
This  rational  soul  he  conceived  to  be  lodged  in  the 
pineal  gland,  as  in  a  sort  of  central  office  ;  and,  here,  by 
the  intermediation  of  the  animal  spirits,  it  became  aware 
of  what  was  going  on  in  the  body,  or  influenced  the 
operations  of  the  body.  Modern  physiologists  do  not 
ascribe  so  exalted  a  function  to  the  little  pineal  gland,  but, 
in  a  vague  sort  of  way,  they  adopt  Descartes'  principle, 
and  suppose  that  the  soul  is  lodged  in  the  cortical  part 
of  the  brain — at  least  this  is  commonly  regarded  as  the 
seat  and  instrument  of  consciousness. 

Descartes  has  clearly  stated  what  he  conceived  to  be 
the  difference  between  spirit  and  matter.  Matter  is  sub- 
stance which  has  extension,  but  does  not  think  ;  spirit  is 
substance  which  thinks,  but  has  no  extension.  It  is  very 
hard  to  form  a  definite  notion  of  what  this  phraseology 
means,  when  it  is  taken  in  connexion  with  the  location 
of  the  soul  in  the  pineal  gland  ;  and  I  can  only  represent 
it  to  myself  as  signifying  that  the  soul  is  a  mathem^atical 
point,  having  place  but  not  extension,  within  the  limits 
of  the  pineal  gland.  Not  only  has  it  place,  but  it  must 
exert  force ;  for,  according  to  the  hypothesis,  it  is  com- 
petent, when  it  wills,  to  change  the  course  of  the  animal 
spirits,  which  consist  of  matter  in  motion.  Thus  the 
soul  becomes  a  centre  of  force.  But,  at  the  same  time, 
the  distinction  between  spirit  and  matter  vanishes  ;  inas- 
much as  matter,  according  to  a  tenable  hypothesis,  may 
be  nothing  but  a  multitude  of  centres  of  force.  The 
case  is  worse  if  we  adopt  the  modern  vague  notion  that 
consciousness  is  seated  in  the  grey  matter  of  the  cere- 
brum, generally  ;  for,  as  the  grey  matter  has  extension, 
that  which  is  lodo^ed  in  it  must  also  have   extension. 


333  LAY  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiv. 

A.iid  tlius  we  are  led,  in  anotlier  way,  to  lose  spirit 
in  matter. 

In  truth,  Descartes'  physiology,  like  the  modern  physi- 
ology of  which  it  anticipates  the  spirit,  leads  straight  to 
Materialism,  so  far  as  that  title  is  rightly  applicable  to  the 
doctrine  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  any  thinking  sub- 
stance, apart  from  extended  substance ;  and  that  thought 
is  as  much  a  function  of  matter  as  motion  is.  Thus  we 
arrive  at  the  singular  result  that,  of  the  two  paths  opened 
up  to  us  in  the  "  Discourse  upon  Method,"  the  one 
leads,  by  Vv^ay  of  Berkeley  and  Hume,  to  Kant  and 
Idealism ;  while  the  other  leads,  by  way  of  De  La 
Mettrie  and  Priestley,  to  modern  physiology  and  Mate- 
rialism.-^ Our  stem  divides  into  two  main  branches, 
which  grow  in  opposite  ways,  and  bear  flowers  which 
look  as  different  as  they  can  well  be.  But  each  branch 
is  sound  and  healthy,  and  has  as  much  life  and  vigour 
as  the  other. 

If  a  botanist  found  this  state  of  things  in  a  new  plant, 
I  imagine  that  he  might  be  inclined  to  think  that  his  tree 
was  monoecious — that  the  flowers  were  of  different  sexes, 
a.nd  that,  so  far  from  setting  up  a  barrier  between  the 
two  branches  of  the  tree,  the  only  hope  of  fertility  lay  in 
bringing  them  together.  I  may  be  taking  too  much  of  a 
naturalist's  view  of  the  case,  but  I  must  confess  that  this 
is  exactly  my  notion  of  what  is  to  be  done  with  meta- 
physics and  physics.  Their  differences  are  comple- 
mentary, not  antagonistic ;  and  thought  will  never  be 
completely  fruitful  until  the  one  unites  with  the  other. 

^  BoTiillier,  into  whose  excellent  "History  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy" 
I  had  not  looked  when  this  passage  was  written,  says,  very  justly,  that  Descartes 
"  a  merite  le  titre  de  pere  de  la  physique,  aussi  bien  que  celui  de  pere  de  la 
m^taphysique  moderne  "  (t.  i.  p.  197).  See  also  Kuno  Fischer's  "  G-eschichte 
der  neuen  Philosophic,"  Bd.  i.  ;  and  the  very  remarkable  work  of  Lange, 
"  Geschichte  des  Materialismus." — A  good  translation  of  the  latter  would  be 
a  great  service  to  philosophy  in  England, 


XIV.]  ON  DESCARTES'  " discourse:'  339 

Let  me  try  to  explain  what  I  mean.  I  hold,  with  the 
Materialist,  that  the  human  body,  like  all  living  bodies, 
is  a  machine,  all  the  operations  of  which  will,  sooner  or 
later,  be  explained  on  physical  principles.  I  believe  that 
we  shall,  sooner  or  later,  arrive  at  a  mechanical  equivalent 
of  consciousness,  just  as  we  have  arrived  at  a  mechanical 
equivalent  of  heat.  If  a  pound  weight  falling  through  a 
distance  of  a  foot  gives  rise  to  a  definite  amount  of  heat, 
which  may  properly  be  said  to  be  its  equivalent ;  the  same 
pound  weight  falling  through  a  foot  on  a  man's  hand  gives 
rise  to  a  definite  amount  of  feeling,  which  might  with  equal 
propriety  be  said  to  be  its  equivalent  in  consciousness.^ 
And  as  we  already  know  that  there  is  a  certain  parity 
between  the  intensity  of  a  pain  and  the  strength  of  one's 
desire  to  get  rid  of  that  pain ;  and  secondly,  that  there 
is  a  certain,  correspondence  between  the  intensity  of  the 
heat,  or  mechanical  violence,  which  gives  rise  to  the  pain, 
and  the  pain  itself;  the  possibility  of  the  establishment 
of  a  correlation  between  mechanical  force  and  volition 
becomes  apparent.  And  the  same  conclusion  is  sug- 
gested by  the  fact  that,  within  certain  limits,  the  inten- 
sity of  the  mechanical  force  we  exert  is  proportioned  to 
the  intensity  of  our  desire  to  exert  it. 

Thus  I  am  prepared  to  go  with  the  Materialists  wher- 
ever the  true  pursuit  of  the  path  of  Descartes  may  lead 
them ;  and  I  am  glad,  on  all  occasions,  to  declare  my 
belief  that  their  fearless  development  of  the  materialistic 
aspect  of  these  matters  has  had  an  immense,  and  a  most 
beneficial,  influence  upon  physiology  and  psychology. 
Nay  more,  when  they  go  farther  than  I  think  they  are 
entitled   to   do — when   they   introduce    Calvinism   into 

*  For  all  the  qualifications  -whicli  need  to  be  made  here,  I  refer  the  reader 
to  the  thorough  discussion  of  the  nature  of  the  relation  between  nervf-action 
and  consciousness  in  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  "Principles  of  Psychology,'' 
p,  115  et  seq 


340  l^r  STJRMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEfFS,  [xiv. 

science  and  declare  that  man  is  nothing  but  a  machine, 
I  do  not  see  any  particular  harm  in  their  doctrines,  so 
long  as  they  admit  that  which  is  a  matter  of  experi- 
mental fact — nam^ely,  that  it  is  a  machine  capable  of 
adjusting  itself  within  certain  limits. 

I  protest  that  if  some  great  Power  would  agree  to 
make  me  always  think  what  is  true  and  do  what  is  right, 
on  condition  of  being  turned  into  a  sort  of  clock  and 
wound  up  every  morning  before  I  got  out  of  bed,  I 
should  instantly  close  with  the  offer.  The  only  freedom 
I  care  about  is  the  freedom  to  do  right ;  the  freedom  to 
do  wrong  I  am  ready  to  part  with  on  the  cheapest  terms 
to  any  one  who  will  take  it  of  me.  But  when  the  Ma- 
terialists stray  beyond  the  borders  of  their  path  and 
begin  to  talk  about  there  being  nothing  else  in  the 
universe  but  Matter  and  Force  and  Necessary  Laws, 
and  all  the  rest  of  tlieir  ''grenadiers/'  I  decline  to 
follow  them.  I  go  back  to  the  point  from  which  we 
started,  and  to  the  other  path  of  Descartes.  I  remind 
you  that  we  have  already  seen  clearly  and  distinctly, 
and  in  a  manner  wdiich  admits  of  no  doubt,  that  all  our 
knowledge  is  a  knowledge  of  states  of  consciousness. 
"  Matter''  and  "  Force  "  are,  so  far  as  we  can  know,  mere 
names  for  certain  forms  of  consciousness.  *' Necessary  " 
means  that  of  which  we  cannot  conceive  the  contrary. 
"  Law  "  means  a  rule  which  we  have  always  found  to  hold 
good,  and  which  we  expect  always  will  hold  good.  Thus 
it  is  an  indisputable  truth  that  what  we  call  the  material 
world  is  only  known  to  us  under  the  forms  of  the  ideal 
world  ;  and,  as  Descartes  tells  us,  our  knowledge  of  the 
soul  is  more  intimate  and  certain  than  our  knowledge  of 
the  body.  If  I  say  that  impenetrability  is  a  property  of 
matter,  all  that  I  can  really  mean  is  that  the  conscious- 
ness I  call  extension,  and  the  consciousness  I  call  resist- 
ance,   constantly   accompany  one   another.      Why   and 


siv.]  ON  DESCARTES'  '' DISCOURSE.'*  341 

how  tliey  are  thus  related  is  a  mystery.  And  if  I  say 
that  thought  is  a  property  of  matter,  all  that  I  can  mean 
is  that,  actually  or  possibly,  the  consciousness  of  exten- 
sion and  that  of  resistance  accompany  all  other  sorts  of 
consciousness.  But,  as  in  the  former  case,  why  they  are 
thus  associated  is  an  insoluble  mystery. 

From  all  this  it  follows  that  what  I  may  term  legiti- 
mate materialism,  that  is,  the  extension  of  the  conceptions 
and  of  the  methods  of  physical  science  to  the  highest  as 
well  as  the  lowest  phsenomena  of  vitality,  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  a  sort  of  shorthand  Idealism;  and  Des- 
cartes^ two  paths  meet  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
though  they  set  out  on  opposite  sides  of  it. 

The  reconciliation  of  physics  and  metaphysics  lies  in 
the  acknowledgment  of  faults  upon  both  sides ;  in  the 
confession  by  phj^sics  that  all  the  phsenomena  of  nature 
are,  in  their  ultimate  analysis,  known  to  us  only  as  facts 
of  consciousness ;  in  the  admission  by  metaphysics,  that 
the  facts  of  consciousness  are,  practically,  interpretable 
only  by  the  methods  and  the  formulae  of  physics  :  and, 
finally,  in  the  observance  by  both  metaphysical  and 
physical  thinkers  of  Descartes'  maxim — assent  to  no 
jDroposition  the  matter  of  which  is  not  so  clear  and 
distinct  that  it  cannot  be  doubted. 

When  you  did  me  the  honour  to  ask  me  to  deliver  this 
address,  I  confess  I  was  perplexed  what  topic  to  select. 
For  you  are  emphatically  and  distinctly  a  Christian 
body ;  while  science  and  philosophy,  within  the  range 
of  which  lie  all  the  topics  on  which  I  could  venture 
to  speak,  are  neither  Christian,  nor  Unchristian,  but  are 
Extrachristian,  and  have  a  world  of  their  own,  vv^hich,  to 
use  language  which  will  be  very  familiar  to  your  ears  just 
now,  is  not  only  "unsectarian,"  but  is  altogether  "secular/' 
The  arguments  which  I  have  put  before  you  to-night,  for 


342  X^r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [x.f. 

example,  are  not  inconsistent,  so  far  as  I  know,  with  any 
form  of  theology. 

After  much  consideration,  I  thought  that  I  might  be 
most  useful  to  you,  if  I  attempted  to  give  you  some  vision 
of  this  Extrachristian  world,  as  it  appears  to  a  person  who 
lives  a  good  deal  in  it ;  and  if  I  tried  to  show  yon  by 
what  methods  the  dwellers  therein  try  to  distinguish 
truth  from  falsehood,  in  regard  to  some  of  the  deepest 
and  most  difficult  problems  that  beset  humanity,  "in 
order  to  be  clear  about  their  actions,  and  to  walk  sure- 
footed]y  in  this  life,"  as  Descartes  says. 

It  struck  me  that  if  the  execution  of  my  project  came 
anywhere  near  the  conception  of  it,  you  would  become 
aware  that  the  philosophers  and  the  men  of  science  are 
not  exactly  what  they  are  sometimes  represented  to  you 
to  be ;  and  that  their  methods  and  paths  do  not  lead  so 
perpendicularly  downwards  as  you  are  occasionally  told 
they  do.  And  I  must  admit,  also,  that  a  particular  and 
personal  motive  weighed  with  me, — namely,  the  desire  to 
show  that  a  certain  discourse,  which  brought  a  great 
storm  about  my  head  some  time  ago,  contained  nothing 
but  the  ultimate  development  of  the  views  of  the  father 
of  modern  philosophy.  I  do  not  know  if  I  have  been 
quite  wise  in  allowing  this  last  motive  to  weigh  with  me. 
They  say  that  the  most  dangerous  thing  one  can  do  in  a 
thunderstorm  is  to  shelter  oneself  under  a  great  tree,  and 
the  history  of  Descartes'  life  shows  how  narrowly  he 
escaped  being  riven  by  the  lightnings,  which  were  more 
destructive  in  his  time  than  in  ours. 

Descartes  lived  and  died  a  good  Catholic,  and  prided 
himself  upon  having  demonstrated  the  existence  of  God 
and  of  the  soul  of  man.  As  a  reward  for  his  exertions, 
bis  old  friends  the  Jesuits  put  his  works  upon  the 
"  Index,"  and  called  him  an  Atheist ;  while  the  Pro- 
testant divines  of  Holland  declared  him  to  be  both  a 


XIV.]  ON  DESCABTi:S'  '' discourse:"  343 

Jesuit  and  an  Atheist.  His  books  narrowly  escaped 
being  burned  by  the  hangman  ;  the  fate  of  Vanini  was 
dangled  before  his  eyes ;  and  the  misfortunes  of  Galileo 
so  alarmed  him,  that  he  well-nigh  renounced  the  pur- 
suits by  which  the  world  has  so  greatly  benefited,  and 
was  driven  into  subterfuges  and  evasions  which  were  not 
worthy  of  him. 

"  Very  cowardly,"  you  may  say ;  and  so  it  was. 
But  you  must  make  allowance  for  the  fact  that,  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  not  only  did  heresy  mean  possible 
burning,  or  imprisonment,  but  the  very  suspicion  of  it 
destroyed  a  man's  peace,  and  rendered  the  calm  pursuit 
of  truth  difficult  or  impossible.  I  fancy  that  Descartes 
was  a  man  to  care  more  about  being  w^orried  and  dis- 
turbed, than  about  being  burned  outright ;  and,  like 
many  other  men,  sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  peace  and 
quietness,  what  he  would  have  stubbornly  maintained 
against  downright  violence. 

However  this  may  be,  let  those  who  are  sure  they  would 
have  done  better  throw  stones  at  him.  I  ha^ve  no  feelings 
but  those  of  gratitude  and  reverence  for  the  man  who  did 
what  he  did,  when  he  did ;  and  a  sort  of  shame  that  any 
one  should  repine  against  taking  a  fair  share  of  such 
treatment  as  the  world  thought  good  enough  for  him. 

Finally,  it  occurs  to  me  that,  such  being  my  feeling 
about  the  matter,  it  may  be  useful  to  all  of  us  if  I 
ask  you,  "What  is  yours?  Do  you  think  that  the 
Christianity  of  the  seventeenth  century  looks  nobler  and 
more  attractive  for  such  treatment  of  such  a  man  ?"  You 
will  hardly  reply  that  it  does.  But  if  it  does  not,  may  it 
not  be  well  if  all  of  you  do  what  lies  within  your  power 
to  prevent  the  Christianity  of  the  nineteenth  century 
from  repeating  the  scandal  ? 

There  are  one  or  two  living  men,  who,  a  couple  of 
centuries  hence,  will  be  remembered  as  Descartes  is  now, 


344        LAY  SERMONS,  JDDEFSSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xiv. 

because  they  liave  produced  great  tlionglits  whicli  will 
live  and  grow  as  long  as  mankind  lasts. 

If  tlie  twenty-first  century  studies  tlieir  history,  it  will 
find  that  the  Christianity  of  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 
century  recognised  them  only  as  objects  of  vilification. 
It  is  for  you  and  such  as  you,  Christian  young  men,  to 
say  w^hether  this  shall  be  as  true  of  the  Christianity  of 
the  future  as  it  is  of  that  of  the  present.  I  appeal  to  you 
to  say  "  No,"  in  your  own  interest,  and  in  that  of  the 
Christianity  you  profess. 

In  the  interest  of  Science,  no  appeal  is  needful ;  as 
Dante  sings  of  Fortune — 

**  Quest'  e  colei,  cli'^  tanto  posta  in  croce 
Pur  da  color,  clie  le  dovrian  dar  lode 
Dandole  biasmo  a  torto  e  mala  voce. 

Ma  ella  s'  e  beata,  e  cio  non  ode  : 
Con  r  altre  prime  creature  lieta 

Yolve  sua  spera,  e  beata  si  gode  :  "^ 

so,  whatever  evil  voices  may  rage,  Science,  secure  among 
the  powers  that  are  eternal,  will  do  her  work  and  be 
blessed. 

'*■  "And  this  Is  she  who's  put  on  cross  so  mnch, 
Even  by  them  who  ought  to  give  her  praise, 
Giving  her  wrongly  iU  repute  and  blame. 
But  she  is  blessed,  and  she  hears  not  this  : 
She,  with  the  other  primal  creatures,  glad 
Kevolves  her  sphere,  and  blessed  joys  herself." 

Inferno,  viL  90—95  (W.  ^L  Eossetti's  Translation) 


XV. 

SPONTANEOUS    GENERATION. 

[i  1?  IS  long  been  tlie  custom  for  the  newly-installed 
President  of  the  British  Association  for  the  Advance- 
ment of  Science  to  take  advantage  of  the  elevation  of 
the  position  in  which  the  suffrages  of  his  colleagues 
had,  for  the  time,  placed  him,  and,  casting  his  eyes 
around  the  horizon  of  the  scientific  world,  to  report 
to  them  what  could  be  seen  from  his  watch-tower ;  in 
what  directions  the  multitudinous  divisions  of  the 
noble  army  of  the  improvers  of  natural  knowledge 
were  marching;  what  important  strongholds  of  the 
great  enemy  of  us  all,  ignorance,  had  been  recently 
captured;  and,  also,  with  due  impartiality,  to  mark 
where  the  advanced  posts  of  science  had  been  driven 
in,  or  a  long-continued  siege  had  made  no  progress. 

I  propose  to  endeavour  to  follow  this  ancient  pre- 
cedent, in  a  manner  suited  to  the  limitations  of  my 
knowledge  and  of  my  cajDacity.  I  shall  not  presume 
to  attempt  a  panoramic  survey  of  the  world  of  science, 
nor  even  to  give  a  sketch  of  what  is  doing  in  the  one 
great  province  of  biology,  with  some  portions  of  which 
my  ordinary  occupations  render  me  familiar.  But  I 
shall  endeavour  to  put  before  you  the  history  of  the 
rise  and  progress  of  a  single  biological  doctrine ;  and 
I  shall  try  to  give  some  notion  of  the  fruits,  both  in- 
tellectual  and  practical,  which  we  owe,  directly  or  in- 


346  ^^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xt 

directly,  to  tlie  working  out,  by  seven  generations  of 
patient  and  laborious  investigators,  of  tlie  tbougM 
wMcIl  arose,  more  tban  two  centuries  ago,  in  tlie  mind 
of  a  sagacious  and  observant  Italian  naturalist. 

It  is  a  matter  of  every-day  experience  tbat  it  is 
difficult  to  prevent  many  articles  of  food  from  be- 
coming covered  witb.  mould ;  tbat  fruit,  sound  enough 
to  all  appearance,  often  contains  grubs  at  tbe  core; 
tbat  meat,  left  to  itself  in  tbe  air,  is  apt  to  putrefy 
and  swarm  witb  maggots.  Even  ordinary  water,  if 
allowed  to  stand  in  an  open  vessel,  sooner  or  later 
becomes  turbid  and  full  of  living  matter. 

The  pMlosopbers  of  antiquity,  interrogated  as  to 
tbe  cause  of  tbese  phenomena,  were  provided  witb  a 
ready  and  a  plausible  answer.  It  did  not  enter  tbeir 
minds  even  to  doubt  tbat  tbese  low  forms  of  life  were 
generated  in  tbe  matters  in  wbicb  tbey  made  tbeir 
ajDpearance.  Lucretius,  wbo  bad  drunk  deeper  of  tbe 
scientific  spirit  tban  any  poet  of  ancient  or  modern 
times  except  Goetbe,  intends  to  speak  as  a  pbiloso- 
pber,  ratber  tban  as  a  poet,  wben  be  writes  tbat  "  witb 
good  reason  tbe  eartb  bas  gotten  tbe  name  of  mother, 
since  all  things  are  produced  out  of  the  earth.  And 
many  living  creatures,  even  now,  spring  out  of  the 
earth,  taking  form  by  the  rains  and  the  heat  of  the 
sun."  '  The  axiom  of  ancient  science,  "  that  the  cor- 
ruption of  one  thing  is  the  birth  of  another,"  had  its 
popular  embodiment  in  the  notion  that  a  seed  dies 
before  the  young  plant  springs  from  it ;  a  belief  so 

'  It  is  thus  that  Mr.  Munro  renders 

"  Linquitur,  ut  merito  maternum  nomen  adepta 
Terra  sit,  e  terra  quoniam  sunt  cuncta  creata. 
Multaque  nunc  etiam  exsistant  animalia  terris 
Imbribus  et  calido  solis  concreta  vapore." 

De  Rerum  Natura,  lib.  v.  '793-'796. 

But  would  not  the  meaning  of  the  last  line  be  better  rendered  "Deve- 
loped in  rain-water  and  in  the  warm  vapours  raised  bj  the  sun"  ? 


tv.J  SPONTANEOUS   GENERATION.  347 

wide  spread  and  so  fixed,  tliat  Saint  Paul  appeals  to 
it  in  one  of  tlie  most  splendid  outbursts  of  his  fervid 
eloquence  : — 

"  Thou  fool,  that  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened,  except  it  die."  ^ 

THe  proposition  tliat  life  may,  and  does,  proceed 
from  tliat  whidi  lias  no  life,  tlien,  was  lield  alike  Ly 
tlie  pMlosopliers,  tlie  jDoets,  and  tlie  people,  of  tlie 
most  enliglitened  nations,  eigMeen  hundred  years  ago ; 
and  it  remained  the  accepted  doctrine  of  learned  and 
unlearned  Europe,  through  the  middle  ages,  down 
even  to  the  seventeenth  century. 

It  is  commonly  counted  among  the  many  merits  of 
our  great  countryman,  Harvey,  that  he  was  the  first  to 
declare  the  opposition  of  fact  to  venerable  authority 
in  this,  as  in  other  matters;  but  I  can  discover  no 
justification  for  this  wide-spread  notion.  After  care- 
ful search  through  the  "  Exercitationes  de  Generatione," 
the  most  that  appears  clear  to  me  is,  that  Harvey  be- 
lieved all  animals  and  plants  to  spring  from  what  he 
terms  a  ''^ primordium  vegetale^^  a  phrase  which  may 
nowadays  be  rendered  "  a  vegetative  germ ; "  and  this, 
he  says,  is  "  oviforme^'^  or  "  egg-like ; "  not,  he  is  care- 
ful to  add,  that  it  necessarily  has  the  shape  of  an  ^^g^ 
but  because  it  has  the  constitution  and  nature  of  one. 
That  this  '^ primordium  oviforme''''  must  needs,  in  all 
cases,  proceed  from  a  living  parent  is  nowhere  ex- 
pressly maintained  by  Harvey,  though  such  an  opin- 
ion may  be  thought  to  be  implied  in  one  or  tw^o 
passages ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  does,  more 
than  once,  use  language  which  is  consistent  only  with 
a  full  belief  in  spontaneous  or  equivocal  generation.' 

^  1  Corinthians  xv.  36. 

2  See  the  following  passage  in  Exercitatio  I. : — "  Item  sponte  nascentia 
dicuntur ;  non  quod  ex  jputredine  oriunda  sint,  sed  quod  casu,  naturaj 
gponte,  et  aequivoca  (ut  aiunt)  generatione,  a  parentibus  sui  dissimilibua 


34S  L  ^Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  \x\. 

In  fact,  tlie  main  concern  of  Harvey's  wonderful  little 
treatise  is  not  witli  generation,  in  the  physiological 
sense,  at  all,  but  witli  development;  and  Ms  great 
object  is  the  establishment  of  the  doctrine  of  epi- 
genesis. 

The  first  distinct  enunciation  of  the  hypothesis  that 
all  living  matter  has  sprung  from  preexisting  living 
matter,  came  from  a  contemporary,  though  a  junior,  of 
Harvey,  a  native  of  that  country,  fertile  in  men  great 
in  all  departments  of  human  activity,  which  was  to 
intellectual  Europe,  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  what  Germany  is  in  the  nineteenth.  It  was 
in  Italy,  and  from  Italian  teachers,  that  Harvey  re- 
ceived the  most  important  part  of  his  scientific  edu- 
cation. And  it  was  a  student  trained  in  the  same 
schools,  Francesco  Redi — a  man  of  the  widest  know 
ledge  and  most  versatile  abilities,  distinguished  alike  as 
scholar,  poet,  physician,  and  naturalist — who,  just  two 
hundred  and  two  years  ago,  published  his  "  Esj)erienze 
intorno  alia  Generazione  degl'  Insetti,"  and  gave  to  the 
world  the  idea,  the  growth  of  which  it  is  my  purpose 
to  trace.  Redi's  book  went  through  ^yq  editions  in 
twenty  years ;  and  the  extreme  simplicity  of  his  ex- 
periments, and  the  clearness  of  his  arguments,  gained 
for  his  views,  and  for  their  consequences,  almost  uni- 
versal acceptance. 

Redi  did  not  trouble  himself  much  with  sj)eculative 
coDsiderations,  but  attacked  particular  cases  of  what 
was  sup]30sed  to  be  '^  spontaneous  generation  "  experi- 

pi  oveniant."  Again,  in  "  De  Uteri  Membranis  "  : — "  In  cunctorum  viven- 
tium  genei'atione  (sicut  diximns)  hoc  solenne  est,  ut  ortum  ducunt  a  pri- 
mordio  aliquo,  quod  turn  materiam  turn  efficiendi  potestatem  in  se  habet* 
sitque  adeo  id,  ex  quo  et  a  quo  quicquid  nascitur,  ortum  suum  ducat. 
Tale  primordium  in  animalibus  {she  ab  aliis  generantibus  proveniant,  sive 
gponte,  aut  ex  putrediiie  nascentur)  est  humor  in  tunica  aliqua  aut  puta- 
mine  conclusus,"  Compare  also  what  Redi  lias  to  say  respecting  Harvej^'s 
opinions,  "Esperienze,"  p.  11. 


£V.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  349 

mentally.  Here  are  dead  animals,  or  pieces  of  meat, 
says  lie ;  I  expose  them  to  the  air  in  liot  weather,  and 
in  a  few  days  they  swarm  with  maggots.  You  tell  me 
that  these  are  generated  in  the  dead  flesh ;  but  if  I  put 
similar  bodies,  w^hile  quite  fresh,  into  a  jar,  and  tie 
some  fine  gauze  over  the  top  of  the  jar,  not  a  maggot 
makes  its  appearance,  while  the  dead  substances,  never- 
theless, putrefy  just  in  the  same  way  as  before.  It  is 
obvious,  therefore,  that  the  maggots  are  not  generated 
by  the  corruption  of  the  meat ;  and  that  the  cause  of 
their  formation  must  be  a  something  which  is  kept 
away  by  gauze.  But  gauze  will  not  keep  away  aeri- 
form bodies,  or  fluids.  This  something  must,  therefore, 
exist  in  the  form  of  solid  particles  too  big  to  get 
through  the  gauze.  Nor  is  one  long  left  in  doubt  what 
these  solid  particles  are ;  for  the  blowflies,  attracted 
by  the  odour  of  the  meat,  swarm  round  the  vessel,  and, 
urged  by  a  powerful  but  in  this  case  misleading  in- 
stinct, lay  eggs  out  of  which  maggots  are  immediately 
hatched  upon  the  gauze.  The  conclusion,  therefore,  is 
unavoidable ;  the  maggots  are  not  generated  by  the 
meat,  but  the  eggs  which  give  rise  to  them  are  brought 
through  the  air  by  the  flies. 

These  experiments  seem  almost  childishly  simple, 
and  one  wonders  how  it  was  that  no  one  ever  thought 
of  them  before.  Simple  as  they  are,  however,  they  are 
worthy  of  the  most  careful  study,  for  every  piece  of 
experimental  work  since  done,  in  regard  to  this  subject, 
has  been  shaped  upon  the  model  famished  by  the 
Italian  philosopher.  As  the  results  of  his  experiments 
were  the  same,  however  varied  the  nature  of  the  ma- 
terials he  used,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  there  arose  in 
Redi's  mind  a  presumption,  that  in  all  such  cases  of 
the  seeming  production  of  life  from  dead  matter,  the 
real  explanation  was  the  introduction  of  living  germa 

10 


350  J^-^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv, 

from  without  into  tliat  dead  matter.'  And  tlins  tlie 
hypothesis  that  living  matter  always  arises  by  the 
agency  of  pre-existicg  living  matter,  took  definite  shape ; 
and  had,  henceforward,  a  right  to  be  considered  and  a 
claim  to  be  refated,  in  each  particular  case,  before  the 
production  of  living  matter  in  any  other  way  could  be 
admitted  by  careful  reasoners.  It  will  be  necessary  for 
me  to  refer  to  this  hypothesis  so  frequently,  that,  to 
save  circumlocution,  I  shall  call  it  the  hypothesis  of 
Biogenesis  ;  and  I  shall  term  the  contrary  doctrine — - 
that  living  matter  may  be  produced  by  not  living  mat- 
ter— the  hypothesis  of  Ahiogenesis, 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  as  I  have  said,  the  lat- 
ter was  the  dominant  view,  sanctioned  alike  by  an 
tiquity  and  by  authority ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  ob- 
serve that  Redi  did  not  escape  the  customary  tax  upon 

'  "  Pure  contentandomi  sempre  in  questa  ed  in  ciascnna  altro  cosa,  da 
ciascuno  piti  savio,  la  dove  io  difettuosamente  parlassi,  esser  corretto  ;  non 
tacero,  clie  per  molte  osservazioni  molti  volti  da  me  fatte,  mi  sento  incli- 
nato  a  credere  clie  la  terra,  da  quelle  prime  piante,  e  da  quel  primi  an  imali 
in  poi,  che  ella  nei  primi  giorni  del  mondo  produsse  per  comandemento 
del  sovrano  ed  omnipotente  Fattore,  non  abbia  mai  piu  prodotto  da  se 
medesima  nfe  erba  n^  albero,  nh  animale  alcuno  perfetto  o  imperfetto  che 
ei  se  fosse ;  e  cbe  tutto  quello,  che  ne'  tempi  trapassati  e  nato  e  clie  ora 
nascere  in  lei,  o  da  lei  veggiamo,  venga  tutto  dalla  semenza  reale  e  vera 
delle  piante,  e  degli  animali  stessi,  i  quali  col  mezzo  del  proprio  seme  la 
loro  spezie  conservano.  E  se  bene  tutto  giorno  scorghiamo  da'  cadaveri 
degli  animali,  e  da  tutte  quante  le  maniere  dell'  erbe,  e  de'  fiori,  e  dei 
frutti  imputriditi,  e  corrotti  nascere  vermi  infiniti^ 

'  Nonne  vides  quaecunque  mora,  fluidoque  calore 
Corpora  tabescunt  in  parva  animalia  verti ' — 

Io  mi  sento,  dico,  inclinato  a  credere  che  tutti  quel  vermi  si  generino  dal 
seme  paterno;  e  che  le  carni,  e  I'erbe,  e  I'altre  cose  tutte  putrefatte,  o  pu- 
trefattibili  non  facciano  altra  parte,  n^  abbiano  altro  ufizio  nella  genera- 
zione  degl'  insetti,  se  non  d'apprestare  un  luogo  o  un  nido  proporzionato, 
in  cui  dagli  animali  nel  tempo  della  figliatura  sieno  portati,  e  partoriti  i 
vermi,  o  I'uova  o  I'altre  semenze  dei  vermi,  i  quali  tosto  che  nati  sono, 
trovano  in  esso  nido  un  suflSciente  alimento  abilissimo  per  nutricarsi:  e 
Be  in  quello  non  son  portate  dalle  madri  queste  suddette  semenze,  niente 
mai,  e  replicatamente  niente,  vi  s'ingegneri  e  nasca." — Rem,  Esperienze, 
pp.  14-16. 


XT. J  SFOJ^ TAKEO  US    GENERA  TION.  351 

a  discoverer  of  Laving  to  defend  Mmself  against  tlio 
cliarge  of  impugning  tlie  autliority  of  tlie  Scriptures ;  * 
for  liis  adversaries  declared  tliat  tlie  generation  of  bees 
from  the  carcase  of  a  dead  lion  is  affirmed,  in  the  Book 
of  Judges,  to  have  been  the  origin  of  the  famous  riddle 
with  v/hich  Samson  perplexed  the  Philistines : — 

"  Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat, 
And  out  of  the  strong  came  forth  sweetness." 

Against  all  odds,  however,  Redi,  strong  with  i\m 
strength  of  demonstrable  fact,  did  splendid  battle  for 
Biogenesis ;  but  it  is  remarkable  that  he  held  the  doc- 
trine in  a  sense  which,  if  he  had  lived  in  these  times, 
would  have  infallibly  caused  him  to  be  classed  among 
the  defenders  of  "  spontaneous  generation."  "  Omne 
vivum  ex  vivo,"  "no  life  without  antecedent  life," 
aphoristically  sums  up  Redi's  doctrine ;  but  he  went 
no  further.  It  is  most  remarkable  evidence  of  the 
philosophic  caution  and  impartiality  of  his  mind,  that 
although  he  had  speculatively  anticipated  the  manner 
in  which  grubs  really  are  deposited  in  fruits  and  in  the 
galls  of  plants,  he  deliberately  admits  that  the  evidence 
is  insufficient  to  bear  him  out ;  and  he  therefore  pre 
fers  the  supposition  that  they  are  generated  by  a  modi 
fication  of  the  living  substance  of  the  plants  themselves 
Indeed,  he  regards  these  vegetable  growths  as  organs 
by  means  of  which  the  plant  gives  rise  to  an  animal 
and  looks  upon  this  production  of  specific  animals  as 
the  final  cause  of  the  galls  and  of  at  any  rate  some 
fruits.  And  he  proposes  to  explain  the  occurrence  of 
parasites  within  the  animal  body  in  the  same  way.^ 

^  "Molti,  e  molti  altri  ancora  vi  potrei  annoverare,  se  non  fossi  chia- 
mato  a  rispondere  alle  rampogne  di  alcuni,  che  bruscamente  mi  rammen- 
*ano  ci6,  che  si  legge  nel  capitolo  quattordicesimo  del  sacrosanto  Libro  de' 

giudici " — Eedi,  I.  c,  p.  45. 

'  The  passage  (Esperienze,  p.  129)  is  worth  quoting  in  full : — 

"  Se  dovessi  palesarvi  il  mio  sentimento  crederei  che  i  frutti,  i  leguml, 


352  ^^y  SERMON'S,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

It  is  of  great  importance  to  apprehend  Kedi's  posi- 
tion rightly ;  for  the  lines  of  thought  he  laid  down  for 
us  are  those  upon  which  naturalists  have  been  working 
ever  since.  Clearly,  he  held  biogenesis  as  against 
Ahiogenesis  j  and  I  shall  immediately  proceed,  in  the 
first  place,  to  inquire  how  far  subsequent  investigation 
has  borne  him  out  in  so  doing. 

But  Redi  also  thought  that  there  were  two  modes 

gli  alberi  e  le  foglie,  in  due  mrmiere  inverminassero.  Una,  perchS  venendo 
i  bachi  per  di  fuora,  e  cercando  I'alimento,  col  rodere  ci  aprono  la  strada, 
ed  arrivano  alia  piti  interna  midoUa  de'  frutti  e  de'  legni.  L'altra  mani- 
era  si  6,  che  io  per  me  stimerei,  che  non  fosse  gran  fatto  disdicevole  il  cre- 
dere, che  quell'  anima  o  quella  virtu,  la  quale  genera  i  fiori  ed  i  frutti  nelle 
piante  viventi,  sia  quella  stessa  che  generi  ancora  i  bachi  di  esse  piante. 
E  chi  sa  forse,  che  molti  frutti  degli  alberi  non  sieno  prodotti,  non  per  nn 
fine  primario  e  principale,  ma  bensi  per  un  uffizio  secondario  e  servile,  de- 
stinato  alia  generazione  di  que'  vermi,  servendo  a  loro  in  vece  di  matrice, 
in  cui  dimorino  un  prefisso  e  determinato  tempo ;  il  quale  arrivato  escan 
fuora  a  godere  il  sole. 

"Io  m'  immagino,  che  (juesto  mio  pensiero  non  vi  parra  totalmente  un 
paradosso  ;  mentre  farete  riflessione  a  quelle  tante  sorte  di  galle,  di  galloz- 
zole,  di  coccole,  di  ricci,  di  calici,  di  cornetti  e  di  lappole,  che  son  produtte 
dalle  querce,  dalle  farnie,  da'  cerri,  da'  sugheri,  da'  lecci  e  da  altri  simili 
alberi  da  ghianda;  imperciocch^  in  quelle  gallozzole,  e  particolarmente 
nelle  piil  grosse,  che  si  chiamano  coronati,  ne'  ricci  capelluti,  che  ciuffoli 
da'  nostri  contadini  son  detti ;  nei  ricci  legnosi  del  cerro,  ne'  ricci  stellati 
della  querela,  nelle  galluzze  della  foglia  del  leccio  si  vede  evidentissima- 
mente,  che  la  prima  e  principale  intenzlone  della  natura  h  formare  dentro 
di  quelle  un  animale  volante ;  vedendosi  nel  centro  della  gallozzola  un 
uovo,  che  col  crescere  e  col  maturarsi  di  essa  gallozzola  va  crescendo  e  ma- 
turando  anch'  egli,  e  cresce  altresi  a  suo  tempo  quel  verme,  che  nelP  uovo 
si  racchiude;  il  qual  verme,  quando  la  gallozzola  k>  finita  di  maturare  e  che 
h  venuto  il  termine  destinato  al  suo  nascimento,  diventa,  di  verme  che  era, 

una  mosca Io  vi  confesso  ingenuamente,  che  prima  d'aver  fatte 

queste  mie  esperienze  intorno  alia  generazione  degl'  insetti  mi  dava  a  cre- 
dere, o  per  dir  megiio  sospettava,  che  forse  la  gallozzola  nascesse,  perchd 
arrivando  la  mosca  nel  tempo  della  primavera,  e  facendo  una  piccolissima 
fessura  ne'  rami  pih  teneri  della  querela,  in  quella  fessura  nascondesse  uno 
de  suoi  semi,  il  quale  fosse  cagione  che  sbocciasse  fuora  la  gallozzola ;  e  che 
mai  non  si  vedessero  galle  o  gallozzole  o  ricci  o  cornetti  o  calici  o  coc- 
cole, se  non  in  que'  rami,  ne'  quali  le  mosche  avessero  depositate  le  loro 
semenze ;  e  mi  dava  ad  intendere,  che  le  gallozzole  fossero  una  malattia 
cagionata  nelle  querce  dalle  punture  delle  mosche,  in  quella  giusa  stessa 
she  dalle  punture  d'altri  animaletti  slmiglievoli  veggiamo  crescere  de'  tu- 
mori  ne'  corpi  degli  animali." 


xr.J  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  353 

of  Biogenesis.  By  tlie  one  metliod,  wLicli  is  that  of 
common  and  ordinary  occurrence,  tlie  living  parent 
gives  rise  to  offspring  whicli  passes  tlirougli  tlie  same 
cycle  of  changes  as  itself — ^like  gives  rise  to  like  ;  and 
this  has  been  termed  Eomogenesis.  By  the  other  mode 
the  living  parent  was  supposed  to  give  rise  to  offspring 
which  passed  through  a  totally  different  series  of  states 
from  those  exhibited  by  the  parent,  and  did  not  return 
into  the  cycle  of  the  parent ;  this  is  what  ought  to  be 
called  Seterogenesis^  the  offspring  being  altogether  and 
permanently  unlike  the  parent.  The  term  Heteroge- 
nesis,  however,  has  unfortunately  been  used  in  a  differ- 
ent sense,  and  M.  Milne-Edwards  has  therefore  sub- 
stituted for  it  Xenogenesis^  which  means  the  generation 
of  something  foreign.  After  discussing  Redi's  hypothesis 
of  universal  Biogenesis,  then,  I  shall  go  on  to  ask  how 
far  the  growth  of  science  justifies  his  other  hypothesis 
of  Xenogenesis. 

The  progress  of  the  hypothesis  of  Biogenesis  was 
triumphant  and  unchecked  for  nearly  a  century.  The 
application  of  the  microscope  to  anatomy  in  the  hands 
of  Grew,  Leeuwenhoek,  Swammerdam,  Lyonet,  Vallis- 
nieri,  Beaumur,  and  other  illustrious  investigators  of 
nature  of  that  day,  displayed  such  a  complexity  of 
organisation  in  the  lowest  and  minutest  forms,  and 
everywhere  revealed  such  a  prodigality  of  provision 
for  their  multiplication  by  germs  of  one  sort  or  another, 
that  the  hypothesis  of  Abiogenesis  began  to  appear 
not  only  untrue,  but  absurd ;  and,  in  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  when  Needham  and  Buffon 
took  up  the  question,  it  was  almost  universally  dis- 
credited.' 

^  Needham,  -writing  in  1760,  says  : — 

"  Les  naturalistes  modernes  s'accordent  nnanimement  a  etalblir,  comme 
une  v6rite  certaine,  que  toute  plante  vient  de  sa  s6mence  sp^cifiqne,  tout 
animal  d'un  ceuf  on  de  quelque  chose  d'analogne  preexistant  dans  la  plante, 


354  ^-4r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv 

Bat  tlie  skill  of  tlie  microscope-makers  of  tlie  eigL- 
teentli  century  soon  readied  its  limit.  A  microscope 
magnifying  400  diameters  was  a  chef  d'muvre  of  the 
opticians  of  tliat  day ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  by  no 
means  trnstwortliy.  But  a  magnifying  power  of  400 
diameters,  even  wlien  definition  reaches  the  exquisite 
'perfection  of  our  modern  achromatic  lenses,  hardly 
suffices  for  the  mere  discernment  of  the  smallest  forms 
of  life.  A  speck,  only  ^V^h  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  has, 
at  10  inches  from  the  eye,  the  same  apparent  size  as  an 
^^j^^^  iQoooth  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  when  magnified 
400  times ;  but  forms  of  living  matter  abound,  the 
diameter  of  which  is  not  more  than  ^Q^Q^th  of  an  inch. 
A  filtered  infusion  of  hay,  allowed  to  stand  for  two 
days,  will  swarm  with  living  things,  among  which,  any 
which  reaches  the  diameter  of  a  human  red  blood-cor- 
puscle, or  about  g^^^^th  of  an  inch,  is  a  giant.  It  is 
only  by  bearing  these  facts  in  mind,  that  we  can  deal 
fairly  with  the  remarkable  statements  and  speculations 
put  forward  by  Buffon  and  Needham  in  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century. 

When  a  portion  of  any  animal  or  vegetable  body 
is  infused  in  water,  it  gradually  softens  and  disinte= 
grates  :  and,  as  it  does  so,  the  water  is  found  to  swarm 
with  minute  active  creatures,  the  so-called  Infasorial 
Animalcules,  none  of  which  can  be  seen,  except  by  the 
aid  of  the  microscope  ;  while  a  large  proportion  belong 
to  the  category  of  smallest  things  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  and  which  must  have  all  looked  like  mere 
dots  and  lines  under  the  ordinary  microscopes  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

ou  dans  I'animal  de  m^me  esp^ce  qui  I'a  prodult." — N'ouvelles  Olsercations, 
p.  1G9. 

"  Les  naturalistes  ont  gen^ralement  cru  que  les  animaux  microscopiques 
6taient  engendr^s  par  des  ceufs  transportes  dans  I'air,  ou  d6pos6s  dans  de?. 
eaux  dorraantes  par  des  insectes  volans." — Ibid.,  p.  176. 


XV.]  SPONTANEOUS   GENERATION  355 

Led  by  various  tlieoretical  considerations  wliicli  I 
cannot  now  discuss,  but  wliicli  looked  promising  enough 
in  tlie  lights  of  that  day,  Buffon  and  Needham  doubted 
the  applicability  of  Eedi's  hypothesis  to  the  infusorial 
animalcules,  and  Needham  very  properly  endeavoured 
to  put  the  question  to  an  experimental  test.  He  said 
to  himself,  if  these  infusorial  animalcules  come  from 
germs,  their  germs  must  exist  either  in  the  substance 
infused,  or  in  the  water  with  which  the  infusion  is 
made,  or  in  the  superjacent  air.  Now,  the  vitality  of 
all  germs  is  destroyed  by  heat.  Therefore,  if  I  boil 
the  infasion,  cork  it  up  carefully,  cementing  the  cork 
over  with  mastic,  and  then  heat  the  whole  vessel  by 
heaping  hot  ashes  over  it,  I  must  needs  kill  whatever 
germs  are  present.  Consequently,  if  Kedi's  hypothesis 
hold  good,  when  the  infusion  is  taken  away  and  allowed 
to  cool,  no  animalcules  ought  to  be  developed  in  it; 
whereas,  if  the  animalcules  are  not  dependent  on  pre- 
existing germs,  but  are  generated  from  the  infused 
substance,  they  ought,  by-and-by,  to  make  their  appear- 
ance. Needham  found  that,  under  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  made  his  experiments,  animalcules  always 
did  arise  in  the  infusions,  when  a  sufficient  time  had 
elapsed  to  allow  for  their  development. 

In  much  of  his  work  Needham  was  associated  with 
Buffon,  and  the  results  of  their  experiments  fitted  in 
admirably  with  the  great  French  naturalist's  hypothesis 
of  "  organic  molecules,"  according  to  which,  life  is  the 
indefeasible  property  of  certain  indestructible  mole- 
cules of  matter,  which  exist  in  all  living  things,  and 
have  inherent  activities  by  which  they  are  distinguished 
from  not  living  matter.  Each  individual  living  organ- 
ism is  formed  by  their  temporary  combination.  They 
stand  to  it  in  the  relation  of  the  particles  of  water  to 
a  cascade,  or  a  whirlpool ;  or  to  a  mould,  into  which 


356  J^^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

the  water  is  poured.  Tlie  form  of  tlie  organism  is  thus 
determined  by  the  reaction  "between  external  condi- 
tions and  the  inherent  activities  of  the  organic  mole- 
cules of  which  it  is  comj)osed  ;  and,  as  the  stoppage  of 
a  whirlpool  destroys  nothing  but  a  form,  and  leaves 
the  molecules  of  the  water,  with  all  their  inherent 
activities  intact,  so  what  we  call  the  death  and  putre- 
faction of  an  animal,  or  of  a  plant,  is  merely  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  form,  or  manner  of  association,  of  its 
constituent  organic  molecules,  which  are  then  set  free 
as  infasorial  animalcules. 

It  will  be  perceived  that  this  doctrine  is  by  no  means 
identical  with  AMogenesis^  with  which  it  is  often  con- 
founded. On  this  hy]3othesis,  a  piece  of  beef,  or  a 
handful  of  hay,  is  dead  only  in  a  limited  sense.  The 
beef  is  dead  ox,  and  the  hay  is  dead  grass ;  but  the 
"  organic  molecules "  of  the  beef  or  the  hay  are  not 
dead,  but  are  ready  to  manifest  their  vitality  as  soon 
as  the  bovine  or  herbaceous  shrouds  in  which  they  are 
imprisoned  are  rent  by  the  macerating  action  of  water. 
The  hypothesis  therefore  must  be  classified  under  Xen- 
ogenesis,  rather  than  under  Abiogenesis.  Such  as  it 
was,  I  think  it  will  appear,  to  those  who  will  be  just 
enough  to  remember  that  it  was  propounded  before 
the  birth  of  modern  chemistry,  and  of  the  modern 
oj^tical  arts,  to  be  a  most  ingenious  and  suggestive 
speculation. 

But  the  great  tragedy  of  Science — the  slaying  of  a 
beautifal  hypothesis  by  an  ugly  fact — which  is  so  con- 
stantly being  enacted  under  the  eyes  of  philosophers, 
was  played,  almost  immediately,  for  the  benefit  of 
Buffon  and  Needham. 

Once  more,  an  Italian,  the  Abbe  Spallanzani,  a 
worthy  successor  and  representative  of  Redi  in  his 
acuteness,  his  ingenuity,  and  his  learning,  subjected 


XT.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  357 

the  experiments  and  tlie  conclusions  of  Needliam  to  a 
searcliing  criticism.  It  miglit  Le  true  that  Keedham's 
experiments  yielded  results  such  as  he  had  described,  but 
did  they  bear  out  his  arguments  ?  Was  it  not  possible, 
in  the  first  place,  that  he  had  not  completely  excluded 
the  air  by  his  corks  and  mastic  ?  And  was  it  not  pos- 
sible, in  the  second  place,  that  he  had  not  sufficiently 
heated  his  infusions  and  the  superjacent  air  ?  Spal- 
lanzani  joined  issue  with  the  English  naturalist  on 
both  these  pleas,  and  he  showed  that  if,  in  the  first 
place,  the  glass  vessels  in  which  the  infasions  were 
contained  were  hermetically  sealed  by  fusing  their 
necks,  and  if,  in  the  second  place,  they  were  exposed 
to  the  temperature  of  boiling  water  for  three-quarters 
of  an  hour,'  no  animalcules  ever  made  their  appearance 
within  them.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the  experi- 
ments and  arguments  of  Spallanzani  furnish  a  complete 
and  a  crushing  reply  to  those  of  Needham.  But  we 
all  too  often  forget  that  it  is  one  thing  to  refute  a  prop- 
osition, and  another  to  prove  the  truth  of  a  doctrine 
which,  implicitly  or  explicitly,  contradicts  that  prop- 
osition, and  the  advance  of  science  soon  showed  that, 
though  IN^eedham  might  be  quite  wrong,  it  did  not 
follow  that  Spallanzani  was  quite  right. 

Modern  chemistry,  the  birth  of  the  latter  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  grew  apace,  and  soon  found  herself 
face  to  face  with  the  great  problems  which  biology  had 
vainly  tried  to  attack  without  her  help.  The  discovery 
of  oxygen  led  to  the  laying  of  the  foundations  of  a 
scientific  theory  of  respiration,  and  to  an  examination 
of  the  marvellous  interactions  of  organic  substances 
with,  oxygen.  The  presence  of  free  oxygen  appeared 
to  be  one  of  the  conditions  of  the  existence  of  life,  and 

''  See  Spallanzani,  "  Opere,"  vi.,  pp.  42  and  51. 


358  LA  Y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

of  those  singular  cJiarLges  in  organic  matters  wMcli  are 
known  as  fermentation  and  putrefaction.  The  question 
of  the  generation  of  the  infusory  animalcules  thus 
passed  into  a  new  phase.  For  what  might  not  have 
happened  to  the  organic  matter  of  the  infusions,  or  to 
the  oxygen  of  the  air,  in  Spallanzani's  experiments  ? 
What  security  was  there  that  the  development  of  life 
which  ought  to  have  taken  jolace  had  not  been  checked 
or  prevented  by  these  changes  ? 

The  battle  had  to  be  fought  again.  It  was  needful 
to  repeat  the  experiments  under  conditions  which 
would  make  sure  that  neither  the  oxygen  of  the  air, 
nor  the  composition  of  the  organic  matter,  was  altered 
in  such  a  matter  as  to  interfere  with  the  existence  of 
life. 

Schulze  and  Schwann  took  up  the  question  from 
this  point  of  view  in  1836  and  1837.  The  passage  of 
air  through  red-hot  glass  tubes,  or  through  strong 
sulphuric  acid,  does  not  alter  the  proportion  of  its 
oxygen,  while  it  must  needs  arrest  or  destroy  any 
organic  matter  which  may  be  contained  in  the  air. 
These  experimenters,  therefore,  contrived  arrange- 
ments by  which  the  only  air  which  should  come  into 
contact  with  a  boiled  infusion  should  be  such  as  had 
either  passed  through  red-hot  tubes  or  through  strong 
sulphuric  acid.  The  result  which  they  obtained  was 
that  an  infusion  so  treated  developed  no  living  things, 
while,  if  the  same  infusion  was  afterwards  exposed  to 
the  air,  such  things  appeared  rapidly  and  abundantly. 
The  accuracy  of  these  experiments  has  been  alternate- 
ly denied  and  affirmed.  Supposing  them  to  be  ac- 
cepted, however,  all  that  they  really  proved  was  that 
the  treatment  to  which  the  air  was  subjected  destroyed 
%oinething  that  was  essential  to  the  development  of  life 
in  the  infusion.     This  "  something  "  might  be  gaseous 


sv.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  359 

fluid,  or  solid;    that  it  consisted  of  germs  remained 
only  an  hypothesis  of  greater  or  less  probability. 

Contemporaneously  with  these  investigations  a  re- 
markable discovery  was  made  by  Cagniard  de  la  Tour. 
He  found  that  common  yeast  is  composed  of  a  vast 
accumulation  of  minute  plants.  The  fermentation  of 
must  or  of  wort  in  the  fabrication  of  wine  and  of  beer 
is  always  accompanied  by  the  rapid  growth  and  multi- 
plication of  these  Torulce,  Thus  fermentation,  in  so 
far  as  it  was  accompanied  by  the  development  of  mi- 
croscopical organisms  in  enormous  numbers,  became 
assimilated  to  the  decomposition  of  an  infusion  of  or- 
dinary animal  or  vegetable  matter ;  and  it  was  an  ob- 
vious suggestion  that  the  organisms  were,  in  some  way 
or  other,  the  causes  both  of  fermentation  and  of  putre- 
faction. The  chemists,  with  Berzelius  and  Liebig  at 
their  head,  at  first  laughed  this  idea  to  scorn ;  but,  in 
1843,  a  man  then  very  young,  who  has  since  performed 
the  unexampled  feat  of  attaining  to  high  eminence 
alike  in  Mathematics,  Physics,  and  Physiology — I 
speak  of  the  illustrious  Helmholtz — reduced  the  mat- 
ter to  the  test  of  experiment  by  a  method  alike  ele- 
gant and  conclusive.  Helmholtz  separated  a  putrefy- 
ing or  a  fermenting  liquid  from  one  which  was  simply 
putrescible  or  fermentable  by  a  membrane  which  al- 
lowed the  fluids  to  pass  through  and  become  inter- 
mixed, but  stopped  the  passage  of  solids.  The  result 
was,  that  while  the  putrescible  or  the  fermentable 
liquids  became  impregnated  with  the  results  of  the 
putrescence  or  fermentation  which  was  going  on  on 
the  other  side  of  the  membrane,  they  neither  putrefied 
(in  the  ordinary  way)  nor  fermented ;  nor  were  any  of 
the  organisms  which  abounded  in  the  fermenting  or 
putrefying  liquid  generated  in  them.  Therefore  the 
cause  of  the  development  of  these  organisms  must  lie 


360  ^-^^  SERMONS,   ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

in  sometMng  wliicli  cannot  pass  throngli  membranes ; 
and,  as  Helmlioltz's  investigations  were  long  antece- 
dent to  Graham's  researclies  npon  colloids,  Ms  natural 
(conclusion  was  that  the  agent  thus  intercepted  must 
be  a  solid  material.  In  point  of  fact,  Helmholtz's 
experiments  narrowed  the  issue  to  this :  that  which 
excites  fermentation  and  putrefaction,  and  at  the  same 
time  gives  rise  to  living  forms  in  a  fermentable  or 
putrescible  fluid,  is  not  a  gas  and  is  not  a  diffusible 
fluid ;  therefore  it  is  either  a  colloid,  or  it  is  matter 
divided  into  very  minute  solid  particles. 

The  researches  of  Schroeder  and  Dusch  in  1854,  and 
of  Schroeder  alone,  in  1859,  cleared  up  this  point  by 
experiments  which  are  simply  refinements  upon  those 
of  Redi.  A  lump  of  cotton- wool  is,  physically  speak- 
ing, a  pile  of  many  thicknesses  of  a  very  fine  gauze, 
the  fineness  of  the  meshes  of  which  dejDends  upon  the 
closeness  of  the  compression  of  the  wool.  Now, 
Schroeder  and  Dusch  found  that,  in  the  case  of  all  the 
putrefiable  materials  which  they  used  (except  milk 
and  yolk  of  Qgg)-)  an  infusion  boiled,  and  then  allowed 
to  come  into  contact  with  no  air  but  such  as  had  been 
filtered  through  cotton-wool,  neither  putrefied  nor  fer- 
mented, nor  developed  living  forms.  It  is  hard  to 
imagine  what  the  fine  sieve  formed  by  the  cotton- woo] 
could  have  stopped  except  minute  solid  particles. 
Still  the  evidence  was  incomplete  u.ntil  it  had  been 
positively  shown,  first,  that  ordinary  air  does  contain 
such  particles;  and,  secondly,  that  filtration  through 
cotton-wool  arrests  these  particles  and  allows  only 
physically  pure  air  to  pass.  This  demonstration  has 
been  furnished  within  the  last  year  by  the  remarkable 
experiments  of  Professor  Tyndall.  It  has  been  a 
common  objection  of  Abiogenists  that,  if  the  doctrine 
of  Biogeny  is  true,  the  air  must  be  thick  with  germs ; 


xv.J  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  36,1 

and  they  regard  this  as  tlie  heiglit  of  absurdity.  But 
Nature  occasionally  is  exceedingly  unreasonable,  and 
Professor  Tyndall  lias  proved  tEat  this  particular  ab- 
surdity may  nevertlieless  be  a  reality.  He  lias  demon- 
strated tliat  ordinary  air  is  no  better  tliaii  a  sort  of 
stirabout  of  excessively  minute  solid  particles;  tliat 
tliese  particles  are  almost  wholly  destructible  by  heat ; 
and  that  they  are  strained  off,  and  the  air  rendered 
optically  pure,  by  being  passed  through  cotton-wool. 

But  it  remains  yet  in  the  order  of  logic,  though  not 
of  history,  to  show  that  among  these  solid  destructible 
particles  there  really  do  exist  germs  capable  of  giving 
rise  to  the  development  of  living  forms  in  suitable 
menstrua.  This  piece  of  work  was  done  by  M.  Pas- 
teur in  those  beautiful  researches  which  will  ever  ren- 
der his  name  famous ;  and  which,  in  spite  of  all  attacks 
upon  them,  appear  to  me  now,  as  they  did  seven  years 
ago',  to  be  models  of  accurate  experimentation  and 
logical  reasoning.  He  strained  air  through  cotton- 
wool, and  found,  as  Schroeder  and  Dusch  had  done, 
that  it  contained  nothing  competent  to  give  rise  to  the 
development  of  life  in  fluids  highly  fitted  for  that  pur- 
pose. But  the  important  further  links  in  the  chain  of 
evidence  added  by  Pasteur  are  three.  In  the  first 
place  he  subjected  to  microscopic  examination  the 
cotton-wool  which  had  served  as  strainer,  and  found 
that  sundry  bodies,  clearly  recognizable  as  germs,  were 
among  the  solid  particles  strained  off".  Secondly,  he 
proved  that  these  germs  were  competent  to  give  rise  to 
living  forms  by  simply  sowing  them  in  a  solution  fitted 
for  their  development.  And,  thirdly,  he  showed  that 
the  incapacity  of  air  strained  through  cotton- wool  to 
give  rise  to  life  was  not  due  to  any  occult  change  af- 

^  "  Lectures  to  "Working  Men  on  the  Causes  of  the  Phenomena  of  Organic 
Nature,"  1863. 


362  i^-4  r  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,   AND  REVIEWS.  [xv 

fected  in  constituents  of  tlie  air  Iby  tlie  wool,  by  prov- 
ing that  tlie  cotton-wool  miglit  be  dispensed  mth 
altogether,  and  perfectly  free  access  left  between  the 
exterior  air  and  that  in  the  experimental  flask.  If  the 
neck  of  the  flask  is  drawn  ont  into  a  tube  and  bent 
downwards ;  and  if,  after  the  contained  fluid  has  been 
carefally  boiled,  the  tube  is  heated  sufficiently  to  de- 
stroy any  germs  which  may  be  present  in  the  air  which 
enters  as  the  fluid  cools,  the  apparatus  may  be  left  to 
itself  for  any  time  and  no  life  will  appear  in  the  fluid. 
The  reason  is  plain.  Although  there  is  free  communi- 
cation between  the  atmosphere  laden  with  germs  and 
the  germless  air  in  the  flask,  contact  between  the  two 
takes  place  only  in  the  tube ;  and  as  the  germs  cannot 
fall  upwards,  and  there  are  no  currents,  they  never 
reach  the  interior  of  the  flask.  But  if  the  tube  be 
broken  short  off  where  it  proceeds  from  the  flask,  and 
free  access  be  thus  given  to  germs  falling  vertically  out 
of  the  air,  the  fluid  which  has  remained  clear  and  desert 
for  months,  becomes  in  a  few  days  turbid  and  full  of 
life. 

These  experiments  have  been  repeated  over  and 
over  again  by  independent  observers  with  entire  suc- 
cess ;  and  there  is  one  very  simple  mode  of  seeing  the 
facts  for  oneself,  which  I  may  as  well  describe. 

Prepare  a  solution  (much  used  by  M.  Pasteur,  and 
often  called  "  Pasteur's  solution  ")  composed  of  water 
with  tartrate  of  ammonia,  sugar,  and  yeast-ash  dis- 
solved therein.'  Divide  it  into  three  portions  in  as 
many  flasks ;  boil  all  three  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour ; 
and,  while  the  steam  is  passing  out,  stop  the  neck  of 
one  with  a  large  plug  of  cotton- wool,  so  that  this  also 

^  Infusion  of  hay  treated  in  tlie  same  way  yields  similar  results ;  but,  as 
it  contains  organic  matter,  the  argument  which  follows  cannot  be  based 
apon  it. 


£v.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION  363 

may  be  tliorouglily  steamed.  Now  set  the  flasks  aside 
to  cool,  and,  when  tlieir  contents  are  cold,  add  to  one 
of  the  open  ones  a  drop  of  filtered  infusion  of  hay 
which  has  stood  for  twenty-fonr  hours,  and  is  conse- 
quently full  of  the  active  and  excessively  minute 
organisms  known  as  Bacteria,  In  a  couple  of  days 
of  ordinary  warm  weather  the  contents  of  this  flask 
will  be  milky  from  the  enormous  multiplication  of 
Bacteria.  The  other  flask,  open  and  exposed  to  the 
air,  sooner  or  later  will  become  milky  with  Bacteria^ 
and  patches  of  mould  may  appear  in  it ;  while  the 
liquid  in  the  flask,  the  neck  of  which  is  plugged 
with  cotton- wool,  will  remain  clear  for  an  indefinite 
time.  I  have  sought  in  vain  for  any  explanation 
of  these  facts,  except  the  obvious  one,  that  the  air 
contains  germs  competent  to  give  rise  to  Bacteria^ 
such  as  those  with  which  the  first  solution  has  been 
knowingly  and  purposely  inoculated,  and  to  the  mould- 
Fungi,  And  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  meet  with 
any  advocate  of  Abiogenesis  who  seriously  maintains 
that  the  atoms  of  sugar,  tartrate  of  ammonia,  yeast-ash, 
and  water,  under  no  influence  but  that  of  free  access 
of  air  and  the  ordinary  temperature,  I'earrange  them- 
selves and  gave  rise  to  the  protoplasm  of  Bacterium,, 
But  the  alternative  is  to  admit  that  these  Bacteria 
arise  from  germs  in  the  air ;  and  if  they  are  thus  pro- 
pagated, the  burden  of  proof  that  other  like  forms  are 
generated  in  a  different  manner  must  rest  with  the  as- 
serter  of  that  proposition. 

To  sum  up  the  effect  of  this  long  chain  of  evi- 
dence : — 

It  is  demonstrable  that  a  fluid  eminently  fit  for 
the  development  of  the  lowest  forms  of  life,  but  which 
contains  neither  germs,  nor  any  protein  compound, 
gives  rise  to  living  things  in  great  abundance  if  it  is 


364  ^^  5^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xt. 

exposed  to  ordinary  air,  wMle  no  sucli  development 
takes  place  if  tlie  air  witli  wMcli  it  is  in  contact  is 
meclianically  freed  from  tlie  solid  particles  wMcli  ordi- 
narily float  in  it  and  wliicli  may  be  made  visible  by 
appropriate  means. 

It  is  demonstrable  tliat  tlie  great  majority  of  tliese 
particles  are  destructible  by  heat,  and  tliat  some  of 
them  are  germs  or  living  particles  capable  of  giving 
lise  to  tlie  same  forms  of  life  as  those  wMcli  appear 
when  the  fluid  is  exposed  to  unpurified  air. 

It  is  demonstrable  that  inoculation  of  the  experi- 
mental fluid  with  a  drop  of  liquid  known  to  contain 
living  particles  gives  rise  to  the  same  phenomena  as 
ex|)osure  to  unpurified  air. 

And  it  is  further  certain  that  these  living  particles 
are  so  minute  that  the  assumption  of  their  suspension 
in  ordinary  air  presents  not  the  slightest  difficulty. 
On  the  contrary,  considering  their  lightness  and  the 
wide  diffusion  of  the  organisms  which  produce  them, 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  they  should  not  be 
suspended  in  the  atmosphere  in  myriads. 

Thus  the  evidence,  direct  and  indirect,  in  favor  of 
Biogenesis^  for  all  known  forms  of  life  must,  I  think, 
be  admitted  to  be  of  great  weight. 

On  the  other  side,  the  sole  assertions  worthy  of  at- 
tention are  that  hermetically-sealed  fluids,  which  have 
been  exposed  to  great  and  long-continued  heat,  have 
sometimes  exhibited  living  forms  of  low  organisation 
when  they  have  been  opened. 

The  first  reply  that  suggests  itself  is  the  probabil- 
ity that  there  must  be  some  error  about  these  experi- 
ments, because  they  are  performed  on  an  enormous 
scale  every  day  with  quite  contrary  results.  Meat, 
fruits,  vegetables,  the  very  materials  of  the  most  fer- 
mentable  and  putrescible  infusions,  are  preserved  to 


tv.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  365 

fclie  extent,  I  suppose  I  may  say,  of  thousands  of  tons 
every  year,  by  a  metliod  wHeli  is  a  mere  application 
of  Spallanzani's  experiment.  Tlie  matters  to  be  pre- 
served are  well  boiled  in  a  tin  case  provided  witli  a 
small  liole,  and  tliis  liole  is  soldered  up  wben  all  the 
air  in  the  case  has  been  replaced  by  steam.  By  this 
method  they  may  be  kept  for  years  without  putrefy- 
ing, fermenting,  or  getting  mouldy.  Now,  this  is  not 
because  oxygen  is  excluded,  inasmuch  as  it  is  now 
proved  that  free  oxygen  is  not  necessary  for  either  fer- 
mentation or  putrefaction.  It  is  not  because  the  tins 
are  exhausted  of  air,  for  Yihriones  and  bacteria  live, 
as  Pasteur  has  shown,  without  air  or  free  oxygen.  It 
is  not  because  the  boiled  meats  or  vegetables  are  not 
putreseible  or  fermentable,  as  those  who  have  had  the 
aiisfortune  to  be  in  a  ship  supplied  with  unsMlfuUy- 
closed  tins  well  know.  What  is  it,  therefore,  but  the 
exclusion  of  germs  ?  I  think  that  Abiogenists  are 
bound  to  answer  this  question  before  they  ask  us  to 
consider  new  experiments  of  precisely  the  same  order. 
And  in  the  next  place,  if  the  results  of  the  experi- 
ments I  refer  to  are  really  trustworthy,  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  Abiogenesis  has  taken  place.  The  resist- 
ance of  living  matter  to  heat  is  known  to  vary  within 
considerable  limits,  and  to  depend,  to  some  extent, 
upon  the  chemical  and  physical  qualities  of  the  sur- 
rounding medium.  But,  if,  in  the  present  state  of  sci- 
ence, the  alternative  is  offered  us,  either  germs  can 
stand  a  greater  heat  than  has  been  supposed,  or  the 
molecules  of  dead  matter,  for  no  valid  or  intelligible 
reason  that  is  assigned,  are  able  to  rearrange  them- 
selves into  living  bodies,  exactly  such  as  can  be  de- 
monstrated to  be  frequently  produced  in  another  way, 
I  cannot  understand  how  choice  can  be,  even  for  a 
moment,  doubtful, 


S66  L-^  2^  SEmiONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND   REVIEWS.  [xr. 

But,  tiioiigli  I  cannot  express  this  conviction  of 
mine  too  strongly,  I  must  carefully  guard  myself 
against  the  suj)position  that  I  intend  to  suggest  that 
no  such  thing  as  Abiogenesis  ever  has  taken  place  in 
the  past,  or  ever  will  take  place  in  tke  future.  With 
organic  chemistry,  molecular  physics,  and  physiology, 
yet  in  their  infancy,  and  every  day  making  prodigious 
strides,  I  think  it  would  be  the  height  of  presumption 
for  any  man  to  say  that  the  conditions  under  which 
matter  assumes  the  properties  we  call  "vital"  may 
not,  some  day,  be  artificially  brought  together.  All  I 
feel  justified  in  affirming  is,  that  I  see  no  reason  for  be- 
lieving that  the  feat  has  been  performed  yet. 

And,  looking  back  through  the  prodigious  vista  of 
the  past,  I  find  no  record  of  the  commencement  of  life, 
and  therefore  I  am  devoid  of  any  means  of  forming  a 
definite  conclusion  as  to  the  conditions  of  its  appear 
ance.  Belief,  in  the  scientific  sense  of  the  word,  is  a 
serious  matter,  and  needs  strong  foundations.  To  say, 
therefore,  in  the  admitted  absence  of  evidence,  that  I 
have  any  belief  as  to  the  mode  in  which  the  existing 
forms  of  life  have  originated,  would  be  using  words  in 
a  wrong  sense.  But  expectation  is  permissible  where 
belief  is  not ;  and,  if  it  were  given  me  to  look  beyond 
the  abyss  of  geologically  recorded  time  to  the  still 
more  remote  period  when  the  earth  was  passing 
through  physical  and  chemical  conditions,  which  it 
can  no  more  see  again  tha.n  a  man  can  recall  his  in- 
fancy, I  should  expect  to  be  a  witness  of  the  evolution 
of  living  protoplasm  from  not  living  matter.  I  should 
expect  to  see  it  appear  under  forms  of  great  simplicity, 
endowed,  like  existing  fungi,  with  the  power  of  deter- 
mining the  formation  of  new  protoplasm  from  such 
matters  as  ammonium  carbonates,  oxalates  and  tar 
trates,   alkaline   and   earthy  phosphates,   and   water. 


XT.]  SPONTANEOUS   GENERATION.  367 

witliout  tlie  aid  of  light.  Tliat  is  tlie  expectation  to 
whicli  analogical  reasoning  leads  me ;  but  I  beg  you 
once  more  to  recollect  tliat  I  bave  no  rigbt  to  call  my 
opinion  any  thing  but  an  act  of  pbilosopbical  faith. 

So  much  for  the  history  of  the  progress  of  Eedi's 
great  doctrine  of  Biogenesis,  which  appears  to  me, 
with  the  limitations  I  have  ex|)ressed,  to  be  victorious 
along  the  whole  line  at  the  present  day. 

As  regards  the  second  problem  offered  to  us  by 
Redi,  whether  Xenogenesis  obtains,  side  by  side  with 
Homogenesis — whether,  that  is,  there  exist  not  only 
the  ordinary  living  things,  giving  rise  to  offspring 
which  run  through  the  same  cycle  as  themselves,  but 
also  others,  producing  offspring  which  are  of  a  totally 
different  character  from  themselves — the  researches  of 
two  centuries  have  led  to  a  different  result.  That  the 
grubs  found  in  galls  are  no  product  of  the  plants  on 
which  the  galls  grow,  but  are  the  result  of  the  intro- 
duction of  the  eggs  of  insects  into  the  substance  of 
these  plants,  was  made  out  by  Yallisnieri,  Reaumur, 
and  others,  before  the  end  of  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  tapeworms,  bladderworms, 
and  fiukes,  continued  to  be  a  strono:hold  of  the  advo- 
cates  of  Xenogenesis  for  a  much  longer  period.  In- 
deed, it  is  only  within  the  last  thirty  years  that  the 
splendid  patience  of  Von  Siebold,  Van  Beneden,  Leuck- 
art,  Kiichenmeister,  and  other  helminthologists,  has 
succeeded  in  tracing  every  such  parasite,  often  through 
the  strangest  wanderings  and  metamorphoses,  to  an 
%^^^  derived  from  a  parent,  actually  or  potentially  like 
itself ;  and  the  tendency  of  inquiries  elsewhere  has  all 
been  in  the  same  direction.  A  plant  may  throw  off 
bulbs,  but  these,  sooner  or  later,  give  rise  to  seeds  or 
spores,  which  develop  into  the  original  form.  A 
polype  may  give  rise  to  Medusae,  or  a  pluteus  to  an 


368  ^-^^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND    REVIEWS.  [xr. 

EcMnoderm,  but  the'  Medusae  and  tlie  EcMnoderm 
give  rise  to  eggs  wMcli  produce  polypes  or  plutei,  and 
tliey  are  therefore  only  stages  in  the  cycle  of  life  of  the 
species. 

But  if  we  turn  to  pathology  it  offers  us  some  re- 
markable approximations  to  true  Xenogenesis. 

As  I  have  already  mentioned,  it  has  been  known 
since  the  time  of  Vallisnieri  and  of  Reaumur,  that 
galls  in  plants,  and  tumours  in  cattle,  are  caused  by 
insects,  which  lay  their  eggs  in  those  parts  of  the  ani- 
mal or  vegetable  frame  of  which  these  morbid  struc- 
tures are  outgrowths.  Again,  it  is  a  matter  of  familiar 
experience  to  everybody  that  mere  pressure  on  the 
skin  will  give  rise  to  a  corn.  Now,  the  gall,  the  tu- 
mour, and  the  corn,  are  parts  of  the  living  body,  which 
have  become,  to  a  certain  degree,  independent  and  dis- 
tinct organisms.  Under  the  influence  of  certain  ex- 
ternal conditions,  elements  of  the  body,  which  should 
have  developed  in  due  subordination  to  its  general 
plan,  set  up  for  themselves  and  apply  the  nourish- 
ment which  they  receive  to  their  own  purposes. 

From  such  innocent  productions  as  corns  and  warts, 
there  are  all  gradations  to  the  serious  tumours  which, 
by  their  mere  size  and  the  mechanical  obstruction  they 
cause,  destroy  the  organism  out  of  which  they  are  de- 
veloped ;  while,  finally,  in  those  terrible  structures 
known  as  cancers,  the  abnormal  growth  has  acquired 
powers  of  reproduction  and  multiplication,  and  is  only 
morphologically  distinguishable  from  the  parasite 
worm,  the  life  of  which  is  neither  more  nor  less  close- 
ly bound  up  with  that  of  the  infested  organism. 

If  there  were  a  kind  of  diseased  structure,  the  histo- 
logical elements  of  which  w^re  capable  of  maintaining 
a  separate  and  independent  existence  out  of  the  body, 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  shadowy  boundary  between 


XT.]  SPONTANEOUS    GENERATION.  369 

morbid  growtli  and  Xenogenesis  would  be  effaced. 
And  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  progress  of  dis- 
covery has  almost  brought  us  to  this  point  already.  I 
have  been  favoured  by  Mr.  Simon  with  an  early  copy 
of  the  last  published  of  the  valuable  "  Reports  on  the 
Public  Health,"  which,  in  his  capacity  of  their  medical 
officer,  he  annually  presents  to  the  Lords  of  the  Privy 
Council.  The  apjDendix  to  this  report  contains  an  in- 
troductory essay  "  On  the  Intimate  Pathology  of  Con- 
tagion," by  Dr.  Burdon  Sanderson,  which  is  one  of  the 
clearest,  most  comprehensive,  and  well-reasoned  dis- 
cussions of  a  great  question  which  has  come  under  my 
notice  for  a  long  time.  I  refer  you  to  it  for  details  and 
for  the  authorities  for  the  statements  I  am  about  to 
make. 

You  are  familiar  with  what  happens  in  vaccination. 
A  minute  cut  is  made  in  the  skin,  and  an  infinitesimal 
quantity  of  vaccine  matter  is  inserted  into  the  wound. 
Within  a  certain  time  a  vesicle  appears  in  the  place  of 
the  wound,  and  the  fiuid  which  distends  this  vesicle  is 
vaccine  matter,  in  quantity  a  hundred  or  a  thousand- 
fold that  which  was  originally  inserted.  Now,  what 
has  taken  place  in  the  course  of  this  operation  ?  Has 
the  vaccine  matter,  by  its  irritative  property,  produced 
a  mere  blister,  the  fluid  of  which  has  the  same  irrita- 
tive property?  Or  does  the  vaccine  matter  contain 
living  particles,  v/hich  have  grown  and  multiplied 
where  they  have  been  planted  ?  The  observations  of 
M.  Chauveau,  extended  and  confirmed  by  Dr.  Sander- 
son himself,  appear  to  leave  no  doubt  upon  this  head. 
Experiments,  similar  in  principle  to  those  of  Helmholtz 
on  fermentation  and  putrefaction,  have  proved  that  the 
active  element  in  the  vaccine  l}nxLph  is  non-diffusible, 
and  consists  of  minute  particles  not  exceeding  2000  0  ^^ 
of  an  inch  in  diameter,  which  are  made  visible  in  the 


370  ^^^  SSmiONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv, 

lyrnpli  by  tlie  microscope.  Similar  experiments  liave 
proved  tliat  two  of  the  most  destructive  of  epizootic 
diseases,  sheep-pox  and  glanders,  are  also  dependent 
for  their  existence  and  their  propagation  upon  extremely 
small  living  solid  particles,  to  which  the  title  of  mi- 
crozymes  is  applied.  An  animal  suffering  under  either 
of  these  terrible  diseases  is  a  source  of  infection  and 
contagion  to  others,  for  precisely  the  same  reason  as  a 
tub  of  fermenting  beer  is  capable  of  propagating  its 
fermentation  by  "  infection,"  or  "  contagion,"  to  fresh 
wort.  In  both  cases  it  is  the  solid  living  particles 
which  are  efficient ;  the  liquid  in  which  they  float,  and 
at  the  expense  of  which  they  live,  being  altogether 
passive. 

Now  arises  the  question,  are  these  microzymes  the 
results  of  Homogenesis^  or  of  Xenogenesis ;  are  they 
capable,  like  the  Tomdce  of  yeast,  of  arising  only  by  the 
development  of  pre-existing  germs ;  or  may  they  be,  like 
the  constituents  of  a  nut-gall,  the  results  of  a  modifica- 
tion and  individualisation  of  the  tissues  of  the  body  in 
which  they  are  found,  resulting  from  the  operation  of 
certain  conditions?  Are  they  parasites  in  the  zoolo- 
gical sense,  or  are  they  merely  what  Virchow  has 
called  "heterologous  growths"?  It  is  obvious  that 
this  question  has  the  most  profound  importance, 
whether  we  look  at  it  from  a  practical  or  from  a  theo- 
retical point  of  view.  A  parasite  may  be  stamped  out 
by  destroying  its  germs,  but  a  pathological  product 
can  only  be  annihilated  by  removing  the  conditions 
\^hich  give  rise  to  it. 

It  appears  to  me  that  this  great  problem  mil  have 
to  be  solved  for  each  zymotic  disease  separately,  foi 
analogy  cuts  two  ways.  I  have  dwelt  upon  the  anal- 
ogy of  pathological  modification,  which  is  in  favour  of 
the  xenogenetic  origin  of  microzymes  ;  but  T  must  no^^ 


XV.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION  371 

speak  of  tlie  equally  strong  analogies  in  favour  of  tlie 
origin  of  such  pestiferous  particles  by  the  ordinary  pro- 
cess of  the  generation  of  like  from  like. 

It  is,  at  present,  a  well- est ablisked  fact  tliat  certain 
diseases,  both  of  plants  and  of  animals,  which  have  all 
the  characters  of  contagious  and  infectious  epidemics, 
are  caused  by  minute  organisms.  The  smut  of  wheat 
is  a  well-known  instance  of  such  a  disease,  and  it  can- 
not be  doubted  that  the  grape-disease  and  the  potato- 
disease  fall  under  the  same  category.  Among  animals, 
insects  are  wonderfully  liable  to  the  ravages  of  con- 
tagious and  infectious  diseases  caused  by  microscopic 
Fimgi. 

In  autumn,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  flies,  motion- 
less upon  a  window-pane,  with  a  sort  of  magic  circle, 
in  white,  drawn  around  them.  On  microscopic  exam- 
ination, the  magic  circle  is  found  to  consist  of  innu- 
merable spores,  which  have  been  thrown  off  in  all 
directions  by  a  minute  fungus  called  Mnpusa  omiscce^ 
the  spore-forming  filaments  of  which  stand  out  like  a 
pile  of  velvet  from  the  body  of  the  fly.  These  spore- 
forming  filaments  are  connected  with  others  which  fill 
the  interior  of  the  fly's  body  like  so  much  fine  wool, 
having  eaten  away  and  destroyed  the  creature's  viscera. 
This  is  the  fall-grown  condition  of  the  Em^usa.  If 
traced  back  to  its  earlier  stages,  in  flies  which  are  still 
active,  and  to  all  appearance  healthy,  it  is  found  to 
exist  in  the  form  of  minute  corpuscles  which  float  in 
the  blood  of  the  fly.  These  multiply  and  lengthen 
into  filaments,  at  the  expense  of  the  fly's  substance ; 
and,  when  they  have  at  last  killed  the  patient,  they 
grow  out  of  its  body  and  give  off  spores.  Healthy 
flies  shut  up  with  diseased  ones  catch  this  mortal  dis- 
ease and  perish  like  the  others.  A  most  competent 
observer,  M.  Cohn,  who  studied  the  development  of 


372  ^^^  SERMONS,   ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

the  Empusa  in  the  fly  very  carefully,  was  utterly  un- 
al)le  to  discover  in  wliat  manner  tlie  smallest  germs  of 
the  Mvpusa  got  into  the  fly.  The  spores  could  not 
be  made  to  give  rise  to  such  germs  by  cultivation ;  nor 
were  such  germs  discoverable  in  the  air,  or  in  the  food 
of  the  fly.  It  looked  exceedingly  like  a  case  of  Abio- 
genesis,  or,  at  any  rate,  of  Xenogenesis  ;  and  it  is  only 
quite  recently  that  the  real  course  of  events  has  been 
made  out.  It  has  been  ascertained,  that  when  one  of 
the  spores  falls  upon  the  body  of  a  fly,  it  begins  to 
germinate  and  sends  out  a  process  which  bores  its  way 
through  the  fly's  skin ;  this,  having  reached  the  inte- 
rior cavities  of  its  body,  gives  off  the  minute  floating 
corpuscles  which  are  the  earliest  stage  of  the  JEmpusa. 
The  disease  is  "contagious,"  because  a  healthy  fly 
coming  in  contact  with  a  diseased  one,  from  which  the 
spore-bearing  filaments  protrude,  is  pretty  sure  to  carry 
off  a  spore  or  two.  It  is  "infectious"  because  the 
spores  become  scattered  about  all  sorts  of  matter  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  slain  flies. 

The  silkworm  has  long  been  known  to  be  subject  to 
a  very  fatal  and  infectious  disease  called  the  Muscar- 
dine.  Audouin  transmitted  it  by  inoculation.  This 
disease  is  entirely  due  to  the  development  of  a  fungus, 
Botrytis  Bassiana^  in  the  body  of  the  caterpillar ;  and 
its  contagiousness  and  infectiousness  are  accounted  for 
in  the  same  way  as  those  of  the  fly-disease.  But  of 
late  years  a  still  more  serious  epizootic  has  appeared 
among  the  silkworms ;  and  I  may  mention  a  few  facts 
which  will  give  you  some  conception  of  the  gravity  of 
the  injury  which  it  has  inflicted  on  France  alone. 

The  production  of  silk  has  been  for  centuries  an  im- 
portant  branch  of  industry  in  Southern  France,  and  in 
the  year  1853  it  had  attained  such  a  magnitude  that 
the  annual  produce  of  the  French  sericulture  was  esti- 


TV.]  SPONTANEOUS  GENERATION.  373 

mated  to  amount  to  a  tentli  of  tliat  of  tlie  whole  world, 
and  represented  a  money -value  of  117,000,000  of  francs, 
or  nearly  five  millions  sterling.  Wliat  may  be  tLe  sum 
wliicli  would  represent  tlie  money-value  of  all  tlie  in- 
dustries connected  witli  tlie  working  up  of  tlie  raw  silk 
tkus  produced  is  more  than  I  can  pretend  to  estimate. 
Suffice  it  to  say  tliat  tke  city  of  Lyons  is  built  upon 
Frenck  silk  as  muck  as  Manckester  was  upon  American 
cotton  before  tke  civil  war. 

Silkworms  are  liable  to  many  diseases;  and  even 
before  1853  a  peculiar  e]3izootic,  frequently  accompa- 
nied by  tke  appearance  of  dark  spots  upon  tke  skin 
(wkence  tke  name  of  "  Pebrine  "  wkick  it  kas  receiv 
ed),  had  been  noted  for  its  mortality.  But  in  tke 
years  following  1853  tkis  malady  broke  out  witk  suck 
extreme  violence,  tkat,  in  1858,  tke  silk-crop  was  re- 
duced to  a  tkird  of  tke  amount  wkick  it  kad  reacked 
in  1853  ;  and,  up  till  witkin  tke  last  year  or  two,  it 
kas  never  attained  kalf  tke  yield  of  1853.  Tkis  means 
not  only  tkat  tke  great  number  of  people  engaged  in 
silk-growing  are  some  tkirty  millions  sterling  poorer 
tkan  tkey  migkt  kave  been ;  it  means  not  only  tkat 
kigk  prices  kave  kad  to  be  paid  for  imported  silkworm 
eggs,  and  tkat,  after  investing  kis  money  in  tkem,  in 
paying  for  mulberry-leaves  and  for  attendance,  tke  cul- 
tivator kas  constantly  seen  kis  silkworms  perisk  and 
kimself  plunged  in  ruin ;  but  it  means  tkat  tke  looms 
of  Lyons  kave  lacked  employment,  and  tkat  for  years 
enforced  idleness  and  misery  kave  been  tke  portion  of 
a  vast  population  wkick,  in  former  days,  was  indus- 
trious and  well  to  do. 

In  1858  tke  gravity  of  tke  situation  caused  tke 
Frenck  Academy  of  Sciences  to  appoint  Commissioners, 
of  wkom  a  distinguisked  naturalist,  M.  de  Quatrefages, 
was  one,  to  inquire  into  tke  nature  of  this*  disease,  and 
17 


374  ^^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xr. 

If  possible,  to  devise  some  means  of  staying  tlie  plague. 
In  reading  tlie  Report'  made  by  M.  de  Quatrefages  in 
1859,  it  is  exceedingly  interesting  to  observe  tliat  Ms 
elaborate  study  of  tlie  Pebrine  forced  the  conviction 
upon  liis  mind  that,  in  its  mode  of  occurrence  and  prop- 
agation, tlie  disease  of  the  silkworm  is,  in  every  respect, 
comparable  to  the  cholera  among  mankind.  But  it 
differs  from  the  cholera,  and  so  far  is  a  more  formidable 
disease,  in  being  hereditary,  and  in  being,  under  some 
circumstances,  contagious  as  well  as  infectious. 

The  Italian  naturalist,  Filippi,  discovered,  in  the 
blood  of  the  silkworms  affected  by  this  strange  disease, 
a  multitude  of  cylindrical  corpuscles,  each  about  g  ^^  ^th 
of  an  inch  long.  These  have  been  carefully  studied  by 
Lebert,  and  named  by  him  Panliistophyton ;  for  the 
reason  that,  in  subjects  in  which  the  disease  is  strongly 
developed,  the  corpuscles  swarm  in  every  tissue  and 
organ  of  the  body,  and  even  pass  into  the  undeveloped 
eggs  of  the  female  moth.  But  are  these  corpuscles 
causes,  or  mere  concomitants,  of  the  disease?  Some 
naturalists  took  one  view  and  some  another ;  and  it  was 
not  until  the  French  Government,  alarmed  by  the  con- 
tinued ravages  of  the  malady,  and  the  inefficiency  of 
the  remedies  which  had  been  suggested,  dispatched  M. 
Pasteur  to  study  it,  that  the  question  received  its  final 
settlement;  at  a  great  sacrifice,  not  only  of  the  time 
and  peace  of  mind  of  that  eminent  philosopher,  but,  I 
regret  to  have  to  add,  of  his  health. 

But  the  sacrifice  has  not  been  in  vain.  It  is  now 
certain  that  this  devastating,  cholera-like  Pebrine  is 
the  effect  of  the  growth  and  multiplication  of  the  Pan- 
Jiistopliyton  in  the  silkworm.  It  is  contagious  and  in- 
fectious because  the  corpuscles  of  the  PanMstopJiyton 
pass  away  from  the  bodies  of  the  diseased  caterpillars, 

*  Etudes  sur  les  Maladies  Aptuelles  des  Vers  I  Sole,  p.  53. 


XT.]  SPOjSTANEOUS  GENERATIOI^:  375 

directly  or  indirectly,  to  tlie  alimentary  canal  of 
healtliy  silkworms  in  their  neiglibourliood ;  it  is  he- 
reditary, because  tlie  corpuscles  enter  into  tlie  eggs 
while  they  are  being  formed,  and  consequently  are  car- 
ried within  them  when  they  are  laid ;  and,  for  this  rea- 
son, also,  it  presents  the  very  singular  peculiarity  of 
beino;  inherited  only  on  the  mother's  side.  There  is 
not  a  single  one,  of  all  the  apparently  capricious  and 
unaccountable  phenomena  presented  by  the  Pebrine, 
but  has  received  its  explanation  from  the  fact  that  the 
disease  is  the  result  of  the  presence  of  the  microscopic 
organism,  PanMstopJiyton. 

Such  being  the  facts  with  respect  to  the  Pebrine, 
what  are  the  indications  as  to  the  method  of  prevent- 
ing it  ?  It  is  obvious  that  this  depends  upon  the  way 
in  which  the  P anhidopliyton  is  generated.  If  it  may 
be  generated  by  Abiogenesis,  or  by  Xenogenesis,  within 
the  silkworm  or  its  moth,  the  extirpation  of  the  dis- 
ease must  depend  upon  the  prevention  of  the  occurrence 
of  the  conditions  under  which  this  generation  takes 
place.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  PanMstophyton 
is  an  independent  organism,  which  is  no  more  generated 
by  the  silkworm  than  the  mistletoe  is  generated  by  the 
oak  or  the  apple-tree  on  which  it  grows,  though  it  may 
need  the  silkworm  for  its  development  in  the  same 
way  as  the  mistletoe  needs  the  tree,  then  the  indica- 
tions are  totally  different.  The  sole  thing  to  be  done 
is,  to  get  rid  of  and  keep  away  the  germs  of  the  Pan- 
JiistopJiyton.  As  might  be  imagined,  from  the  course 
of  his  previous  investigations,  M.  Pasteur  was  led  to 
believe  that  the  latter  was  the  right  theory;  and, 
guided  by  that  theory,  he  has  devised  a  method  of  ex- 
tirpating the  disease,  which  has  proved  to  be  com- 
pletely successful  wherever  it  has  been  properly  car- 
ried out 


576  -^-^y  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv 

There  can  be  no  reason,  tlien,  for  doubting  that, 
among  insects,  contagions  and  infections  diseases  of 
great  malignity  are  cansed  "by  minute  organisms  wMdi 
are  produced  from  pre-existing  germs,  or  by  bomogene- 
sis ;  and  tbere  is  no  reason,  tbat  I  know  of,  for  believ- 
ing tbat  what  happens  in  insects  may  not  take  place 
in  the  highest  animals.  Indeed,  there  is  already  strong 
evidence  that  some  diseases  of  an  extremely  malignant 
and  fatal  character,  to  which  man  is  subject,  are  as 
much  the  work  of  minute  organisms  as  is  the  Pebrine. 
I  refer  for  this  evidence  to  the  very  striking  facts  ad- 
duced by  Professor  Lister  in  his  various-  well-known 
publications  on  the  antiseptic  method  of  treatment. 
It  seems  to  me  impossible  to  rise  from  the  perusal  of 
those  publications  without  a  strong  conviction  that 
the  lamentable  mortality  which  so  frequently  dogs  the 
footsteps  of  the  most  skilful  operator,  and  those  deadly 
consequences  of  wounds  and  injuries  which  seem  to 
haunt  the  very  walls  of  great  hospitals,  and  are,  even 
now,  destroying  more  men  than  die  of  bullet  or  bayo- 
net, are  due  to  the  importation  of  minute  organisms 
into  wounds,  and  their  increase  and  multiplication; 
and  that  the  surgeon  who  saves  most  lives  will  be  he 
who  best  works  out  the  practical  consequences  of  the 
hypothesis  of  Redi. 

I  commenced  this  Address  by  asking  you  to  follow 
me  in  an  attempt  to  trace  the  path  which  has  been  fol- 
lowed by  a  scientific  idea,  in  its  long  and  slow  pro- 
gTess  from  the  position  of  a  probable  hypothesis  to  that 
of  an  established  law  of  Nature.  Our  survey  has  not 
taken  us  into  very  attractive  regions;  it  has  lain, 
chiefly,  in  a  land  flowing  with  the  abominable,  and 
peopled  with  mere  grubs  and  mouldiness.  And  it  may 
be  imagined  with  what  smiles  and  shrugs  practical 
and  serious  contemporaries  of  Pedi  and  of  Spallanzani 


rv.]  SPONTANEOUS   GENERATION.  377 

may  liave  commented  on  tlie  waste  of  tlieir  higli  abili* 
ties  in  toiling  at  tlie  solution  of  problems  wliich,  tlLongli 
curious  enougli  in  themselves,  could  be  of  no  conceiv- 
able utility  to  mankind. 

!N^evertlieless,  you  will  have  observed  tbat,  before  we 
had  travelled  very  far  upon  our  road,  there  appeared,  on 
the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  fields  laden  with  a  har- 
vest of  golden  grain,  immediately  convertible  into  those 
things  which  the  most  sordidly  practical  of  men  will 
admit  to  have  value — viz.,  money  and  life. 

The  direct  loss  to  France  caused  by  the  Pebrine  in 
seventeen  years  cannot  be  estimated  at  less  than  -Mij 
millions  sterling ;  and  if  we  add  to  this  what  Redi's 
idea,  in  Pasteur's  hands,  has  done  for  the  wine-grower 
and  for  the  vinegar-maker,  and  try  to  capitalise  its 
value,  we  shall  find  that  it  will  go  a  long  way  towards 
repairing  the  money  losses  caused  by  the  frightful  and 
calamitous  war  of  this  autumn.  And  as  to  the  equi 
valent  of  Redi's  thought  in  life,  how  can  we  over-esti- 
mate the  value  of  that  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  epi- 
demic and  epizootic  diseases,  and  consequently  of  the 
means  of  checking,  or  eradicating  them,  the  dawn  of 
which  has  assuredly  commenced  ? 

Looking  back  no  farther  than  ten  years,  it  is  possible 
to  select  three  (1863,  1864,  and  1869)  in  which  the 
total  number  of  deaths  from  scarlet-fever  alone  amount- 
ed to  ninety  thousand.  That  is  the  return  of  killed, 
the  maimed  and  disabled  being  left  out  of  sight. 
Why,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  list  of  killed  in  the 
present  bloodiest  of  all  wars  will  not  amount  to  more 
than  this  !  But  the  facts  which  I  have  placed  before 
you  must  leave  the  least  sanguine  without  a  doubt 
that  the  nature  and  the  causes  of  this  scourge  will,  one 
day,  be  as  well  understood  as  those  of  the  Pebrine  are 


378  ^^^  SERMONS,  ADDRESSES,  AND  REVIEWS.  [xv. 

now ;  and  tliat  tlie  long-suffered  massacre  of  out  inno- 
cents will  come  to  an  end. 

And  tlins  mankind  will  liave  one  more  admonition 
that  "  the  people  perisli  for  lack  of  knowledge ; "  and 
that  the  alleviation  of  the  miseries,  and  the  promotion 
of  the  welfare  of  men  must  be  sought,  Iby  those  who 
will  not  lose  their  pains,  in  that  diligent,  patient,  lov- 
ing study  of  all  the  multitudinous  aspects  of  l^ature, 
the  results  of  which  constitute  exact  knowledge,  or  sci- 
ence. It  is  the  justification  and  the  glory  of  this  great 
meeting  that  it  is  gathered  together  for  no  other  object 
than  the  advancement  of  the  moiety  of  science  which 
deals  with  those  phenomena  of  Nature  which  we  call 
physical.  May  its  endeavours  be  crowned  with  a  full 
measure  of  success ! 


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pare the  digest  of  the  law  of  bills  of  exchange,  bank  notes,  etc.    Lecturer 
on  Political  Economy  in  the  University  of  Cambridge.     In  two  volumes. 
Volume  I  now  ready.    12mo,  cloth.    Price,  $1.75. 
"  Mr.  Macleod's  works  on  economic  science  have  one  great  merit,  they  belong 
to  the  class  of  books  that  assist  inquiry  by  setting  their  readers  thinking.    The 
views  they  set  forth  are  not  only  often  valuable  in  themselves,  but  they  are  the 
generative  cause  of  ideas  which  may  also  be  valuable  in  their  readers.     His 
books,  moreover,  are  written  in  the  proper  way.    The  subject  is  divided  care- 
fully in  accordance  with  the  opinions  held  by  the  author ;  all  classifications  when 
made  are  adhered  to,  and  the  descriptions  and  definitions  ado|)ted  are  admirable 
from  his  point  of  view,  and  in  some  cases  from  a  wider  stand-point." — The  Statist. 

ADOIiPH    STRECKER'S    SHORT    TEXT-BOOK    OF    ORGANIC 

CHEMISTRY.    By  Dr.  Johannes  Wislicenus.   Translated  and  edited, 

with  Extensive  Additions,  by  W.  H.  Hodgkinson,  Ph.  D.,  and  A.  J.  Gkeen- 

AWAT,  F.  I.  C.    8vo.    Cloth,  $5.00. 

"Let  no  one  suppose  that  in  this  'short  text-book' we  have  to  deal  with  a 

primer.    Everything  is  comparative,  and  the  term  'short'  here  has  relation  to 

the  enormous  development  and  extent  of  recent  organic  chemistry.    This  solid 

and  comprehenpive  volume  ie  intended  to  represent  the  present  condition  of  the 

science  in  its  main  facts  and  leading  principles,  as  demanded  by  the  systematic 

chemical  student.    We  have  here,  probably,  the  best  extant  text-book  of  organic 

chemistry.    Not  only  is  it  full  and  comprehensive  and  remarkably  clear  and 

methodical,  but  it  is  up  to  the  very  latest  moment,  and  it  has  been,  moreover, 

prepared  in  a  way  to  secure  the  greatest  excellences  in  such  a  treatise." — T/ie 

Popular  Science  Monthly. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  C1VIL,IZATI0N  AND  THE   PRIMITIVE   CON- 
DITION  OF  MAN,  Mental  and  Social   Condition  of  Savages. 

By  Sir  John  LtrBBOCK,  Bart.,  F.  R.  S.,  President  of  the  British  Association. 
With  Illustrations.  Fourth  edition,  with  numerous  Additions.  Svo,  cloth. 
Price,  $5.00.  

For  sale  by  all  booksellers  ;  or  sent  by  mail,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers, 

1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street,  New  Toyk, 


Scientific  Publications. 


THE  BRAIN  AND  ITS  FUNCTIONS.  By  J.  Lurs,  Physician  to  the 
Hospice  de  la  Salpetriere.    With  Illustrations.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

"No  living  physiologist  is  better  entitled  to  speak  with  authority  upon  the 
structure  and  functions  of  the  brain  than  Dr.  Luys.  Hi?  studies  on  the  anatomy 
of  the  nervous  system  are  acknowledged  to  be  the  fullest  and  most  systematic 
ever  undertaken.  Dr.  Luys  supports  his  couclusions  not  only  by  his  own  ana- 
tomical researches,  but  also  by  many  functional  observations  of  various  other 
physiologists,  including  of  course  Professor  Ferrier's  now  classical  experi- 
ments."—^S'iJ.  Jameses  Gazette. 

"Dr.  Luys,  at  the  head  of  the  great  French  Insane  Asylum,  is  one  of  the  most 
eminent  and  successful  investigators  of  cerebral  science  now  living;  and  he  has 
given  unquestionably  the  clearest  and  most  interesting  brief  account  yet  made  of 
the  structure  and  operations  of  the  brain.  AVe  have  been  fascinated  by  this  vol- 
ume more  than  by  any  other  treatise  we  have  yet  seen  on  the  machinery  of  sen- 
sibility and  thought ;  and  we  have  been  instructed  not  only  by  much  that  is  new, 
bat  by  many  sagacious  practical  hints  such  as  it  is  well  for  everybody  to  under- 
stand."— Tlie  Popular  Science  Monthly. 

THE   CONCEPTS  AND  THEORIES   OF  MODERN  PHYSICS.    Ly 

J.  B.  Stallo.    12mo.     Cloth,  $1.75. 

"  Judge  Stallo's  work  is  an  inquiry  into  the  validity  of  those  mechanical  con- 
ceptions of  the  universe  which  are  now  held  as  fundamental  in  physical  science. 
He  takes  up  the  leading  modern  doctrines  which  are  based  upon  this  mechanical 
conception,  such  as  the  atomic  constitution  of  matter,  the  kinetic  theory  of  gases, 
the  conservation  of  energy,  the  nebular  hypothesis,  and  other  views,  to  find  how 
much  stands  upon  solid  empirical  irround.  and  how  much  rests  upon  metaphys- 
ical speculation.  Since  the  appearance  of  Dr.  Draper's  '  Religion  and  Science,' 
no  book  has  been  published  in  the  country  calculated  to  make  so  deep  an  impres- 
sion on  thoughtful  and  educated  readers  as  this  volume.  .  .  .  The  range  and 
minuteness  of  the  author's  learning,  the  acuteness  of  his  reasoning,  and  the 
singular  precision  and  clearness  of  his  style,  are  qualities  which  very  seldom 
have  been  jointly  exhibited  in  a  scientific  treatise." — Neio  TorTc  Sun. 

THE  FORMATION  OP  VEGETABI^E  MOUIiD,  THROUGH  THE 
ACTION  OF  WORMS,  WITH  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THEIR 
HABITS.  By  Charles  Darwin,  LL.  D.,  F.R.  S.,  author  of  "On  the 
Origin  of  Species,"  etc.,  etc.  With  Illustrations.  12mo,  cloth.  Price,  $1.50. 

"  Mr.  Darwin's  little  volume  on  the  habits  and  instincts  of  earth-wonns  is  no 
less  marked  than  the  earlier  or  more  elaborate  efforts  of  his  genius  by  freshness 
of  observation,  unfailing  power  of  Interpreting  and  correlating  facts,  and  logical 
vigor  in  generalizing  upon  them.  The  main  purpose  of  the  work  is  to  point  out 
the  share  which  worms  have  taken  in  the  formation  of  the  layer  of  vegetable 
mould  which  covers  the  whole  surface  of  the  land  in  every  moderately  humid 
country.  All  lovers  of  nature  will  unite  in  thanking  Mr.  Darwin  for  the  new  and 
interesting  light  he  has  thrown  upon  a  subject  so  long  overlooked,  yet  so  full  of 
interest  and  instruction,  as  the  structure  and  the  labors  of  the  earth-worm." — 
Saturday  Beview. 

"Respecting  worms  as  among  the  most  useful  portions  of  animate  nature. 
Dr.  Darwin  relates,  in  this  remarkable  book,  their  structure  and  habits,  the  part 
they  have  played  in  the  burial  of  ancient  buiklings  and  the  denudation  of  the 
land,  in  the  disintegration  of  rocks,  the  preparation  of  soil  for  the  growth  of 
plants,  and  in  the  natural  history  of  the  world."— -Boston  Advertiser. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers, 

1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street,  New  York. 


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